


Adventures in Equivalence

by lucorinth



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Canon-Typical Violence, Cultural Differences, Freeform, M/M, My First AO3 Post, NG+, New Game Plus, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Time Shenanigans, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Zora Link (Legend of Zelda), Zora Mask, sidlink - Freeform, zora!link
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucorinth/pseuds/lucorinth
Summary: On a warm summer morning, Link died broken upon the rocks. But one end is just another beginning, and a run in with a mysterious mask salesman leads to the start of another chance. Now, with all his accomplishments swept away and the knowledge of all he’s lost, Link has to find a way to set the world right again.(My first real attempt at writing fanfiction, please excuse the poor summary. Basically, I’m obsessed with zora!link, and wanted to join in the fun.)
Relationships: Link & Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 149
Kudos: 312





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Long timer reader, first time poster. A couple months ago I read through most of the zora Link fics for BotW, and I honestly haven't been able to shake the inspiration they gave me! I just want to produce something that makes others as happy as I've been made while reading. I'll have most of my notes at the end.

It was a simple spider that killed him. Link, savior of hyrule. He who once got swallowed by a moldaga and slashed his way free from the innards. Who could parry a guardian’s beam. Who could take on a Lynel’s charge. The hero who rid the world of Ganon’s blight. 

Taken out by an act of kindness. 

…

Maybe it was unfair to blame the arachnid, or the mercy. Technically, it was the fall. The split second where his next handhold would mean squishing the spider and some tiny little part of him that wasn’t numb to wanton death and violence balked just enough - mere milimeters --- and he was falling.

Tumbling. 

Cracking. 

Breaking. 

A moment of relief, the light of a fairy swelling his lungs with breath again, only for another impact to crush it back out. The world spun, bright and blurred with the lucidity of pain. Finally he hit the gentler part of the slope, rolling to a stop.

Link tried to take air in, but something inside had splintered. He felt as if he were drowning in the warm sunlight of the spring day. Through the cotton filter of his hearing, he thought he heard a giggle. And words, as clear as the day. 

“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you…?”

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his throat. Blood and ...something, on his hands where they were pressed against his stomach. 

Zelda. He thought. Zelda, I’m sorry. 

“Oh, don’t frown so. When something ends, others begin.”

Zelda. He thought. Zelda, how long until you come to find me? Will I just be bones and viscera? 

“How about we make a deal, you and I?” That voice again. The sun was blocked out, a long shadow cast over Link’s face. 

It hurts. He thought. It hurts. 

“Look carefully, hero. A life for a life.”

Five masks were before him now.

“What’s your choice? Are you truly finished?” 

Reality faded in and out with the weakening pulse in his ears. The pain was fading with it, numbness smoothing down the jagged pieces. He could close his eyes, if he wanted. His job was done. He could _rest_. It could be finally over. 

Link’s gaze met the red eyes staring placidly at him, saw the too wide smile. Saw the line of masks. Choked on his last breath.

Reached out---

  
  
  


The fall had him aching in places he didn’t know he’d had. Link moaned, unable to turn his head onto it’s other side for some reason. His teeth, his lips, his [i]whole skin[/i] hurt, like he’d been baking in the desert and turned into one chapped mess. Something stabbed him. He jerked upwards, vision met with the flapping of wings as the buzzard took off, unsatisfied with the state of his mortality. 

Link watched it go for a moment, feeling woozy. Or really, just, off. Was it the bloodloss? He looked down. But there wasn’t any blood. 

There also wasn’t ‘himself’. 

He blinked at the pale stomach scales, an unmarred expanse of cream that faded into the palest blue along the sides and from the knees down to his webbed feet. 

...Webbed feet. 

Link rubbed his eyes, and looked again. 

“I must have hit my head pretty hard.” He said, his voice at least familiar. A whispered, hoarse thing prone to disappearing from lack of use. He counted to ten with his eyes closed and looked again. Wiggled his toes, turning his feet towards each other so the two white claws crossed like swords. 

Then he tried to lay back down, but pain shot across the back of his head, as if he’d caught his hair in something. But also as if his ‘hair’ was very long and had nerves. Link snapped his head to the side, catching the sight of a long fish tail in the corner of his eye. He looked at his hands, webbed and clawed. Felt his face, the nasal ridge and lack of hair.

“Oh.” He said to the buzzard who’d landed again and was eyeing him hopefully. 

“Oh.” He said again. “What the f-”

  
  


He’d found a reflective surface, eventually. But the sight that greeted him was almost too jarring to be believed. It was a Zora, somewhat unlike the ones he was familiar with. It was the same shape, mostly, the legs a little longer than what he was used to. It was a pale blue with distinct scales, the color fading towards a slight pinkish near the ends of the fins framing its face. Somewhat odd were the dark blue spots along the fish tail, the yellow fin at the end a fan shape that could flare out and close together. Most odd were the two fins that sat near the top of its head, past it’s rounded nasal crest. They were thin, yellow, and pointed, sitting reminiscent of hylian ears. As Link focused on them, they perked upright, similar now to an alert rabbit. Link reached up, watching the zora in the reflection do the same. He grabbed one and felt the pain when he pinched. The eyes, a solid black instead of the yellow he’d have expected, widened.

Right. 

Okay. 

Stay calm. Everything would be okay. 

  
  


Everything was not okay. 

The horse reared when he grabbed the reins, its rider cursing at him. Once Link managed to settle the horse down, he grabbed the man by the shirt hem, cursing that of all things, his height hadn’t changed much. 

“The castle!” He managed to snap out. “Why is Ganon back?” 

The man stared at him like he’d grown six heads, trying to edge away as much as the saddle allowed. 

“He’s always been at the castle?” The man said, casting a quick glance in the direction of the castle and the malice that tinted the sky around it. 

“I defeated him!” He signed. The man continued to look so lost Link struggled and got the sentence out loud, stress making his throat tight and words difficult. But saying them aloud just led to the person looking even more confused. Link signed it again, emphatically. But he’d let go of the reins to do so, and the man gave him one last look before spurring his horse into a run. Link stomped the ground, discovering that zoras could growl by the low sound of frustration filling his chest. 

The next two people Link accosted were the same. Calamity Ganon had been there a little over a hundred years, they’d said. The princess? Fairytales said she was still in the castle fighting, and had always been. The Champion? Link? Maybe he should get some water, he was looking a little shriveled… Was he sure he was alright? 

“It’s me, Link!” He had signed to one he knew, someone he’d saved once from moblins. She’d looked at him blankly. “I don’t know any Links.” 

Beedle didn’t recognize him either. In fact, he didn’t _ [i]remember[/i] _ him. His eyes glazed over for a second at the mention of the name, a breath of looking distant, and then he was shrugging. “You seem familiar, but I can’t place your name or face.” He said apologetically, before flipping down his set up and clapping his hands together. 

“But let’s get back to business! Beedle will sell to anyone!”

But Link had no rupees. No equipment either. Just a bunch of questions. And an existential crisis. 

Without any other idea of what to do, he found himself back at the spot he’d fallen. Memories whispered at the corners of his mind, curling like mist around his attempts to grab them. Red eyes, a giggle. A choice? 

Link rubbed his face, skin stinging as it flaked up. 

There was a small marker where he’d fallen, looking long abandoned. Upon it lay an assortment of items completely unfamiliar to him. Some kind of guitar made of bone, a spear, and a small bag of rupees. He hefted the guitar, unsatisfied with the unbalanced feeling. It would make an awful weapon. Still, he slung it over his back and continued searching the area.

All his weapons, the master sword itself, the armor, and the sheikah slate, were nowhere to be seen. He sat down on the small stone marker, head in his hands. Panic and confusion curdled in his gut, his breath coming in short gasps. They’d been-- Zelda had been trying to help him. Had been cracking open the shields he’d built since he’d awakened with no memory and had the fate of the world thrust upon him. Trying to work through the traumas. Trying to take the burnt ends of weapons and pain and put them together into something vaguely hylian, who he was meant to be--

He regretted it. 

Link sat, and shuddered in breaths, and broke up into tiny tiny pieces. Let the returning nightmare of amnesia and uncertainty push in past the cracks, fill him up and then harden like a scab. He sat until he felt nothing again. Lifted his head. And took the first step into the new unknown.

The first step was finding water. Every movement hurt like sunburn, the taste of slightly-off blood in his mouth from his cracked lips. It wasn’t far until he found it - much more and sooner than he expected. Areas he’d known were fields that morning were squelchy marsh now, more muck than anything else, but Link wasn’t feeling picky. He faceplanted into it.

The relief was instantaneous, and he flipped over and sighed. Then the gills along his torso opened. He felt the oddest sensation of ‘wrongness’ as the mud clogged in. It felt almost like the time he’d had pneumonia, and Link sat up to unhappily swipe his fingers through the slits to clean them.

His fins snapped open as he let out a gasp of pain, realizing all at once that claws and apparently sensitive organs didn’t mix well. He felt bad now for the time he’d climbed up Sidon’s back and had crammed his foot along his gills. No wonder he’d yelped!

Speaking of Sidon… Link looked east, peering in the direction the domain was in. The skies there were thick dark clouds, the lands flooded in all of the low parts he could see between it and where he was. 

He should find a tower and survey as much as he could. 

Link stood and turned, and then turned again. But there was something wrong, something that had been niggling in the back of his mind since the start.

He couldn’t see a single tower in any direction. 

  
  


Where do you start when all of the things you’d struggled and accomplished were erased in the blink of an eye? When the helpful voice of a (past and) future friend wasn’t there to guide you this time? 

There were so many thoughts and objectives that they clogged up in his brain, leaving his head empty. Link just walked further in the direction he was facing, the slog through the mud getting easier as the water to dirt ratio became to shift towards the former. He was in the marshes now, walking along the pathway where the water now came up to his ribs instead of his ankles. The fact it’d be easier to swim at that point was a distant speck of an idea echoing in vacant space.

“You there! Why are you away from your post?” Called a voice. Link blinked sluggishly and looked up in time to see a familiar red form flip off of the bridge’s tower. The wave from the landing swept the once hylian off his feet, and he scrambled for a moment before standing again. 

Sidon’s eyes were wide, mouth open in a little oh of surprise. He recovered himself swiftly, straightening up. 

“Pardon me,” he said, politely, “I mistook you for someone else.” He paused, raking over Link’s appearance once more. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said, and from knowing him for months, Link could detect confusion in his genial voice. “I didn’t think any…” The prince shook himself, apparently redirecting his thoughts. 

“Setting that aside for now, going any further is dangerous. The zora domain is in a state of emergency and can be flooded at any time. I don’t suppose you know any hylians with especially good archery skills?” He asked. 

Link crossed his arms against the deja vu vertigo rippling through him. He opened his mouth, but nothing emerged but a raspy squeak. He closed his mouth, fangs clicking together in annoyance, and switched to sign language. 

“Does the name L-i-n-k,” he spelled out, “mean anything to you?” 

Sidon tilted his head, fist against his chin. His eyes had the same, glazed distant look that Beedle had, until he shook his head with a bright smile.

“No, I’m afraid not! Is he some particularly good warrior?” He asked.

Link felt himself deflate, gaze dropping to the view of his clawed toes warped from the water. 

It was one thing to lose his items.

Lose the master sword.

Lose his body.

But it was another thing to lose his friends. 

Again.

“Oh dear, are you all right?” Sidon’s voice rumbled from above. His shadow covered Link as the shark zora leaned down to try and peer at him. Link nodded, fins limp and eyes still down.

“Pardon me for saying so, but you’re not being particularly believable. Is there something I could do to help?” Sidon asked. Link sighed. Typical. In the middle of his own emergency, the prince was worried for someone else. He pulled himself together and met the other’s eyes. 

“I want to help.” He signed. 

“At the domain?” Sidon looked confused for a second, and then his trademark smile spread across his face. 

“Of course, we can use as many hands as we can get.” He said, pumping his fist. “Are you familiar with masonry?” 

Link shook his head. The thought of explaining himself, of saying he knew about the divine beast, and how to stop it was too much. Words, at all, were too much. He’d just… He’d do it later. 

Sidon’s smile flickered down for a second, but then the brightness resumed. “I’m sure they’ll find good use for your assistance.” He said, nodding decisively. “The domain can be found up ahead, just follow the river that starts over there all the way up.” He looked back out over Link’s head, face pinching in worry. 

“I’m waiting here for some scouts I sent looking for other hylians, or hopefully a rito. Tell the domain I’ll return soon, please.” He sent his smile at Link once more, seeming to hesitate. 

“I would very much like to converse with you later, if you don’t mind.” He said, almost sounding a bit flustered. Link nodded again, and continued on. He could feel the pinprick of eyes following him for a moment, but when he looked back Sidon had disappeared into the water. 

The river was tumultuous. It’s roar drowned out all sounds but the hints of thunder. Link skirted the side of it, scrambling over the rocky terrain slick from rain and spray. Things seemed much worse this time around, which would make sense if the date was still the same as it had been that morning. Honestly, the fact the zora had been able to prevent the reservoir failing for over a year was astounding, even if a lot more places were heavily flooded now. But how had they done it?

Link leapt across two boulders, letting the thoughts trickle away. Action was all that mattered in the end. If anything mattered at all. If any of this was even real. If thi--

“Hey! Over here!” 

Link turned to the voice, another wave of nostalgia hitting him to see Sidon waving from the water. 

“My friend, what are you doing? It’s dangerous outside of the water! You co-- Look out!” By the time of Sidon’s warning, Link had already started to turn, the tingle of senses fine tuned to the wild going off. 

There was a sizzling in the air, a crisp current that would have raised the hair on his arms if he’d had any. The vivid gleam, a crackle of electricity. 

Link had no time to react; no time to remember his new body would die to such a threat. He simply raised his arm as if he had his usual shield, time slowing as the arrow drew near.

Then, something odd. 

A glimmer around him, like the feeling of Daruuk’s shield but much weaker, and vivid yellow. When the lightning arrow struck it, sparks exploded everywhere and Link’s eyes closed against the hard glare. He felt the arrow bite into his arm, but the muscle-spasming he expected was muted, like when he used to wear the rubber armour. 

Blinking away spots, he lunged forward, bringing him quickly to the lizalfos who seemed too stunned by him being alive to ready another arrow in time. It raised the bow to use as a club, but Link took advantage of the pose. With the ease of long practice, he swung the spear off of his back and thrust it into the soft spot under the Lizalfos’s jaw, puncturing through the skin and sinking into the brain.

He had braced his foot on the creature’s snout and was yanking his spear free by the time the prince made it to him.

“My friend!” He yelled, tail fin wriggling in excitement. “How was that-- How did you? How are you!?” He took a deep breath, pulling himself together, though his eyes still shined bright. 

“Most importantly, are you all right?” He asked, leaning this way and that, inspecting him. Link nodded. He lifted his arm. His new skin was tougher than before, the arrow that would have gone straight through his forearm as a hylian was only sunk into the end of the head. 

“That looks painful, we sho- Wait, don’t!” Sidon’s flustered words were cut short as Link grabbed it firmly and yanked it out. 

“Why did you do that?” The prince asked, fretfully patting the regalia at his hips as if looking for supplies. “We have numbing solutions and bandages at the domain! My friend, that must be painful.” 

Link shrugged, brow ridge furrowed. On the scale of things he’d dealt with, the throbbing barely mustered concern. A ripping sound caught his attention, and he looked on in confusion as Sidon ripped a strip of cloth from his beautiful sash. When the prince reached for his arm, Link pulled away, covering the sluggishly bleeding wound with his other hand. 

He shook his head.

“A waste.” He managed to say. Sidon’s eyes widened at his voice. “It’ll get dirty.”

They blinked at each other for a minute. Then Sidon set his jaw, reached out slowly, and took Link’s arm into his large hand. 

“No.” Sidon said firmly. “The only waste would be allowing you to suffer further.” His tone almost seemed offended. Chastised, though not really understanding, Link let the zora wrap the wound tightly. 

“Now tell me, warrior,” he said as he worked, “how were you immune to that electricity blast? I’ve never seen such a thing in our kind.” 

Link didn’t know either. Honestly, it felt like he knew absolutely nothing. Just a boat floating in a dark ocean of questions, the waves splashing over the sides and getting closer to drowning him every minute. 

So he shrugged. 

Sidon frowned, tying the cloth piece off neatly. 

“Are you always immune to such blasts?” He asked.

Link shrugged helplessly, staring straight ahead. 

Sidon slid his hand down and took Link’s hand in his own two. Startled, he looked up. Sidon was trying to keep his face somber, but Link could see his tail twitching with repressed energy. 

“If you are immune… I believe you may be the key to helping the domain! Tell me, what is your name? I’m sorry I forgot to ask before.”

Link used his other hand to spell out Link again, still staring. 

“Link! What a fantastic name! I see now why you asked if I had heard of you; you are clearly a warrior of great renown! I am Sidon, prince of the domain zora!” Link smiled, and Sidon beamed back.

“Please,” he said, pumping Link’s hand in his enthusiasm, “say you will help the domain! Divine beast Vahruta is endangering all of Hyrule with massive rainfall!” 

Helpless against the fervor, Link nodded. 

Sidon let go and spread his arms wide. “Splendid!” He said, turning and making towards the river. “I’ll guide you there, it’s a quick swim!”

Link eyed the rushing waters, fins flattening against his body. But surely now he’d be like a fish in water, right?

  
  


“Why are you trying to swim like that?” Sidon asked, voice tentative. He was holding Link by the shoulders, preventing the current from dragging him back under to bounce against even more rocks. 

Link couldn’t shrug, and his arms stung from using them to protect his face, so he spoke.

“Never learned.” 

Sidon’s eyes widened.

“You’ve never learned how to swim…?” He asked, looking like Link had said he’d never learned how to walk. It was probably the equivalent, honestly. Sidon contemplated him for a moment, before coughing into his hand. 

“Ah, it wouldn’t be proper but…” he tapped his fingers together, looking to the side. “But desperate times…” There was a blueish flush to Sidon’s cheeks Link had never seen before. “If it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, you could hold on to my back, and I will swim us past the worst spots.” 

Link nodded. It wasn’t like it was anything new to him, even if the other didn’t remember. 

“Here we are.” Sidon said, as they arrived in the valley basin of the domain. “It should be an easier swim from here, and one just needs to climb the waterfalls to arrive.” His muscles felt tense under Link’s hands, so Link let go and kicked against the current to stay near his side. 

“Can you climb waterfalls?” Sideon asked, voice low, uncertain. 

Link probably could, if it was anything like when he had the armor, but he didn’t feel like risking it yet. Instead, he started to kick his way towards land. 

“I’ll just go ahead and get a healer prepared!” Sidon called after him. Link huffed out a soundless laugh, rolling his eyes. He’d already stopped bleeding. 

The lone guard, someone he didn’t recognize, eyed him with obvious curiosity, but let him through. The domain was abandoned, water rushing in torrents over the sides of the tiers. 

“Link! Up here!” Sidon called from the level above. Link climbed the staircase, and then stopped dead in his tracks.

“We are lucky to have caught her”, Sidon said, “she’s both our best healer and the one in charge of handling the divine beast.” He beamed.

“This is my older sister, Mipha.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No time for an existential crisis when a literal crisis is about to flood Hyrule!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments! They really cheered me up this week. Writing fanfic is new to me, so I feel I struggled a bit with the narration and pace of this chapter. I’ll try to make it smoother from now on. Please let me know if you don’t like the POV narration jumps. I found myself doing that naturally when writing, so I hope it’s not too jarring. Basically I’m just trying to find my footing and learn how to do this.

Sidon would be the first to admit his sister was wonderful. She had it all. Talent in both healing and combat! Beauty! Kindness! Intelligence! She was beloved by all the domain, and someone he’d always aspired to be like. 

But. 

But perhaps he was a little,  _ teeny _ bit disheartened at the way Link hadn’t so much as spared him a glance in the past few minutes. The first time he’d set his eyes on her, he’d just frozen, staring. 

He understood! Really, she was amazing. The only thing he had on her was finally outpacing her growth spurt and becoming a head taller a decade back. But, well, Sidon had been the one to discover Link, and it wasn’t like he was so outclassed to be ignored! 

At least, he would have hoped.

“There, finished. Does it still hurt at all?” Mipha asked, pulling her hand back from Link’s arm. He blinked, as if coming from a daze, and shook his head. Finally, the strange zora turned his gaze away, staring at the floor. He crossed his arms tight in front of his body, his fins, even the odd ones atop his head, laying flat against skin. 

“Link. It’s odd, the name is familiar, but I can not recall where I may have heard it.” Mipha mused. If Sidon hadn’t been staring so intently (which was not rude, it was simply attentive, thank you), he would have missed the flinch at Mipha’s words, the way the small zora gripped himself tighter. 

“It’s a wonderful name!” Sidon was quick to assure. “We haven’t had much opportunity to leave the province since the calamity, or surely we would have heard of you. I’m certain a warrior such as yourself must be well renowned!”

Link let out a tiny breathy sound like a cough and a laugh combined. He looked up at Sidon with a half smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t think anyone in Hyrule knows me.” He signed. Sidon opened his mouth, but his words were drowned out by the trumpeting call of the divine beast. The three zora looked in the direction of the reservoir. The air shimmered with the sound, reverberating in their chests.

“Were you successful in finding a hylian or rito to help us? I fear we will soon have no more time.” Mipha asked, voice tense. “The builders and father have been doing all they can, but the extensions won't hold much longer.” 

Sidon perked up at the question. 

“I believe I have found someone to help us, yes! Link appears to have some immunity to electricity. The wound you healed was from a lizalfos lightning arrow.” 

Mipha gasped, bringing a hand to her lips. Both siblings stared down at the smaller zora, who shifted uncomfortably and nodded. 

“How is that possible? Are you certain?” Mipha asked. Link shrugged. She frowned, worried, and turned to Sidon. He gave her his trademark grin and fistpump, though hiding some nerves himself. 

“Link, my friend, will you go up into the king’s chamber and speak with a ray zora named Muzu? Tell him I would like him to bring out the lightning arrow from safekeeping. I will follow shortly.” Sidon said.

Link nodded at him, cast one last look at Mipha, and left. 

“Sidon.” Mipha said, touching his arm. “Where did you find him? He’s…” She struggled, probably trying to make her words sound more polite. “I’ve never seen a zora quite like him, and was unaware there even were any zora outside of the domain any more.”

Sidon frowned. 

“I’m puzzled too, sister. I thought for certain I would see him die when the arrow struck. I…” He rubbed the side of his crest, not meeting her gaze. “I closed my eyes at the last moment. I just couldn't bear to see when there was nothing I could do.” He said it like a confession, guilt cold in his chest. Mipha soothed her hand over his scales.

“But when I opened them, he was there crackling with electricity and running forward. I’ve never seen a lizalfos taken out so quickly and skillfully! I knew then he could help us! He was like a beam of light breaking through the dreary sky!”

“He is quite beautiful, yes.” Mipha said, her red lips upturned. She winked at Sidon’s stunned face. “We have always had similar tastes, haven’t we?” She said, but her playful expression quickly schooled into one more somber. 

“We can discover more about our guest later, after we’ve emerged victorious.”

  
  
  


Perhaps this nightmare was simply a dream. Small splashes of good ingredients into a dubious dish. Seeing Mipha, alive, without the green sallowness of death… Seeing her as she should have been, so, so much taller now. Her magic still warm against his skin as his wounds knit together, unlike the cold relief of Mipha’s Grace he’d relied on so heavily in his previous life. 

...If he’d even had a previous life. 

Which was the dream? Which was real? 

Link was drawn from his spiraling thoughts when a small stone chest thunked with a splash at his feet. Muzu, who obviously hadn’t meant to drop it, winced. 

“Asking me to carry that thing, the prince wants to give me a heart attack…” He grumbled, relaxing after a second of no electricity. “Not that we have any guards off of barricade duty, I suppose.” The wizened zora fixed Link with a hard stare, clearly suspicious. At least that was familiar. 

“Those things on your back,” the ray started to say, but Sidons voice rang out as the royal siblings arrived. 

“Splendid! Thank you Muzu. Now, Link, I would never ask this if I hadn’t seen your wonderful display of strength earlier. But would you open the chest and test your reaction to the arrow? Muzu, step back if you please.” 

Muzu’s jaw dropped, looking at his prince as if he were mad, but hastily took a few steps backwards as Link popped open the container. 

“Sidon, we proved it with Seggin. It simply can’t be do-” the ray’s words faded as Link casually picked up the arrow and tapped the tip with his finger. The electricity tingled, a little painful, but less so than even as a hylian. All three zora gaped at him. 

“It doesn’t hurt? Not at all?” Mipha asked. Link shook his head, the pain not worth mentioning. 

“Marvelous!” Sidon cried, making a motion like he wanted to grab Link’s hands, but then yanking back when he remembered what he was holding. The shark’s tail fin wagged, excitement brimming off him in waves. Mipha was beaming in her gentle way, hands over her heart. 

“What  _ are _ you?” Muzu asked, seeming to sour both of the siblings' mood at once. 

“Muzu.” Mipha said, low and reproachful. The ray’s demeanor melted at once. Link remembered she had bee-- was, Muzu’s favorite. 

“Apologizes, princess.” He said, but he sent Link another suspicious glance as Mipha turned to Link. Link stowed the arrow back in the box and closed it for now. It made him nervous to hold around the others when he had no quiver. 

“I’m sure things are moving very quickly for you, and it’s confusing. Please allow us to explain our dire situation. Have you ever heard of the divine beasts?” Mipha asked. 

Link nodded. She went on to explain the details, different only in severity at first. The rain had been going on longer, all of the zora currently either evacuated or working at the reservoir or tunnel building to spare more time. 

“Though it may come as a surprise, I am the beast’s champion.” She said. “Though when the calamity struck, I was too far to make it before poor VahRuta was taken over. For a hundred years I have tried to regain her, but without electricity, I am unable to get inside. Link,” she knelt and took his hands gently into her own. “Will you please help us save the domain? Save VahRuta?” 

Link nodded, giving her a quick smile. 

“Can’t you speak?” Muzu asked. “How could you respond so passively to the princess’s plea?” 

“Muzu!” Both Sidon and Mipha reprimanded. Link made eye contact with the ray and shrugged just to see him look more annoyed. 

  
  
  


“...And that is our great hope?” Muzu said, as they watched the strange blue and yellow zora again fall back down the waterfall to Ploymus mountain. The three of them winced as Link hit a rock on the way down. He landed in a belly flop, instantly getting sucked under the current and dragged away until he popped up to the surface hundreds of feet back. 

“I assure you, he’s a remarkable fighter! Just, a bit... Unfamiliar with… Swimming.” Sidon said. He pursed his lips, defensive, at the looks Muzu and Mipha gave him. 

“A zora who can barely swim.” Muzu said, flat. 

“Why does he keep moving his arms like that?” Mipha questioned. 

“I’m just going to go assist him!” Sidon said hastily. 

  
  
  


It was infuriating to fail at something with genuine scales that he’d been able to do with a scale tunic. It was this body. It was too unbalanced, too unfamiliar and full of extra bits that threw him off. In the end, Link had had to have Sidon assist him up the waterfall. And then, at the top, there’d been another almost disaster. Right when they’d hit their peak, when he would have let go and brought out his glider in the past, his back went all weird for a second. He’d felt his weapons and new quiver shift, the latter nearly tipping up enough for the shock arrow to fall. Directly onto Sidon. 

Luckily the other hadn’t noticed the near slip up, landing them both into the pool at the top of the cliff. Sidon had landed in a way that’d prevented Link from the brunt of the water, which the once-hylian was thankful for. Despite his thick hide he felt bruised and battered, muscles sore with a familiar sort of new-ness. It reminded him of waking up in the shrine of resurrection so long ago. Malleable, not yet tempered by the brutalities of life in the wild or shrine trials. 

It was worrying. 

  
  


It had been a long time since Link had felt fear at the thought of a Lionel noticing him. But without his armor, slate, and decent weapons, he felt bare before the beast. So he crept carefully along, collecting arrow after arrow as the Lionel prowled along it’s predictable path. 

Easy. Link thought, smug. Even without the sheikah gear, long practice had taught him the intricacies of staying quiet. At least in this, his new body didn’t betray him.

…

And then his stomach growled.

  
  
  


“That was a splendid dive.” Sidon said, consolingly, as Mipha moved to healing the huge bruise of purple across Link’s nasal crest.

“Thanks for swimming out to get me.” Link rasped, voice nearly drowned out by the heavy rain hitting the pavilion’s roof. Sidon perked up at the sound, beaming. 

“Of course, my friend.” He said. “While you were collecting arrows, Mipha and I discussed a strategy.” He glanced away, scratching the side of his face. 

“We believe it’s best if we go with my initial plan, if I had found a hylian. You can hold onto my back and I will handle the swimming. I know it’s not exactly proper, and we mean no offense in asking!” The shark glanced over, as if trying to gauge Link’s response. Link smiled at him, and Sidon returned it tenfold. 

“VaRuta will send out ice to stop us from getting close.” Mipha said, healing the last wound on Link’s side. “I will bait and knock the blocks off target while you two will slip in and handle shooting the generators in order to stop her. Does that sound okay?” 

Link nodded, taking a bite of the fish the royal siblings had given him. He chewed for a minute, considering. With the mention of ice, he’d remembered yet again about the lack of sheikah slate to handle terminals. But, with Mipha alive, surely there would be a way to regain the beast without it? 

“Perhaps you should leave your guitar here?” Mipha said. Link swung it off his shoulders, honestly having forgotten about it. He set it on the bed, and when he turned around he found the two royal siblings leaned over with matching looks of interest. 

“Wh-What?” Link asked, feeling the scales along his arms bristle. Was that what happened when zora were flustered?

“Your back.” Mipha said, at the same time her brother’s “Are those fins?” 

Link strained to look behind himself, turning in a tight circle like a dog chasing its tail. It was true his back had felt strange, but so had the rest of his body. He carefully removed the quiver and spear and made his way over to a mirror in the pavilion that hadn’t been there in his past. 

On his back, folded tightly, were a set of large fins. He strained for a minute, trying to find the muscles that would be used. Remembering how the stuff on his back had shifted at the height of Sidon’s jump before, he tried to recall the feeling of spreading the paraglider. It had become so much like a part of himself in the last year that he’d ached its loss even more than the slate.

In small twitchy movements, he got the fins to open. They were a gauzy yellow, delicate like insect wings. As they spread wide, the top edges reached to where his arms could extend, and he grabbed the rigid blue spine of the top with his hands. Incomberantly large and delicate. After a moment the fins shivered and fell closed, the feeling like having another set of arm muscles burning with strain an alien one. 

There was a duo of sighs behind him. Link nodded to himself. The fins were an obvious weak point, and had already interfered with his jumps once. 

“Do you think a sword would lop them off, or do I need to find a saw?” Link asked. 

“What?!” Sidon’s shout and Mipha’s gasp of horror had him spinning around. 

“What? Would healing after take too much energy right now?” He asked. 

“Why would you want to-- No. Certainly not. We’re not doing that.” Mipha said, firmly. Sidon nodded behind her, looking green around the gills. Link shrugged at them, looking around the battle supplies until he found a belt. He put it on high and tight, pinning the fins on his back close to the skin and out of the way. If they opened up at a bad moment and caused his lightning arrows to fall, he’d never forgive bowing to their insistence. He could take care of them by himself later, after the emergency was over. 

Picking up his quiver and a couple spears, he took a deep breath and gave the other two a thumbs up. They smiled, nervous and bright.

  
  


The roar of the beast reverberated in Link’s chest like a purr, the crashes of thunder and agitated water filling in the gaps between the sound. It was even more exhilarating a second time. Wind and water and adrenaline. The way that Sidon launched him into the air at the pinnacle of each waterfall, time slowing as he held his breath and zeroed in on the glowing orbs. His new body had less stamina and was more awkward than before, but Link had always excelled at adapting quickly. He hit the first two orbs on his second try, letting out a woop as he fell back into the churning water below. Like in the past, Sidon was there in a flash, dragging him up from the depths. 

The trouble started when they circled to the other side. The beast sent out giant chunks of ice, and this time Link was helpless to destroy them from his position. Sidon dodged this way and that, and Link laid low against his back. 

“Going under!” Sidon said. Link’s world turned into a dizzy flip of bubbles. Mipha gave them a little wave as she passed them by. They stayed far under the surface for a minute, watching the white flashes of ice chase the red flashes of the princess. Link exhaled an impressed sigh, the large bubble gurgling out to tickle his nasal crest. Amused and distracted, he tried to take in a breath--

And choked.

Sidon spun to face him as Link brought his hands to his throat, trying to cough out the liquid. He was able to see the shark zora’s eyes widen in alarm before his vision blurred from the choking, hacking pain filling his chest. There was a sudden pressure against his side, stabs of pain in the lines of his delicate gills. 

Gills!

He opened them, the rush of water through them flaring oxygen into his bloodstream. Link went limp with relief, and Sidon shifted his fingers from Link’s gills to hold him in place. 

“Don’t use your lungs to breath in under the water.” Sidon reprimanded, the bubble of his words rising. Link felt the gentle movement of Sidon’s gills against his side from where he’d been tucked against the prince. He tried to mimic them.

“Are you all right? Try to expel the water for a moment, and then we’ll make our second pass on the beast.” The prince said. After a few confusing minutes of huffing out without breathing in, Link pushed off of the prince and pointed up. Sidon nodded.

The third glowing orb was snuffed before the beast had noticed their return. The fourth was more of a challenge, the ice chasing them under the surface. It was only thanks to Mipha, arrowing in like a javelin and cracking the block into four smaller chunks, that they weren’t hit by the leading edge. 

But finally, on the third pass, the fourth and final orb flickered and died under the shock of an electric arrow. The beast made a low, groaning sound, shuddering to a stop. The sudden lack of rain left their ears ringing from the silence. The three zora bobbed close together as the beast lowered into the water. 

“This is my chance!” Mipha said. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed, white teeth glinting in the sudden sun as she beamed. It was almost painful to look at her in the brightness of the day. So vibrant. So alive. Free from the pallor of death or the muteness of heavy clouds. 

Ganon was back. Zelda was still trapped. No one knew him, as if he’d been erased.

But Mipha was alive. 

And the hope burned. 

“Wait!” Link croaked, voice even more scratchy from the incident earlier. He pushed off of Sidon, chasing her clumsily. She turned back, startled. 

“Can you convert the terminals without a sheikah slate?” He asked, finally. In for a green rupee, in for a gold. 

Mipha’s eyes went wide, her mouth popping into an oh of surprise. 

“How do you know about the terminals?” She asked. Her eyes narrowed, and she brought up her spear up between them.

Link lifted his hands, palms towards her. He sank with the movement, spluttering until he kicked harder to stay floating. She relaxed a bit at his apparent ineptitude, frowning. 

“I can tell you everything after we’ve freed the beast.” Link said. ”I promise, I just want to help. I know what’s in there and what to do. You’ll need me and the electric arrows.”

Both of the royal siblings stared at him, then looked at each other. 

Amid the deliberation, VaRuta shuddered. Link ducked around the two zora, sidestroking towards the lowered platform. After a few seconds, Mipha and Sidon glided smoothly past him on either side. By the time he drew near to the platform they were standing on the small entranceway, barring the way. 

Link kicked to a stop, looking up at them as the beast gave another shudder and started to rise. 

With one last quick glance at each other, Sidon and Mipha knelt at the same time and extended their hands to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see zora fins as things zora find appealing, so a big pretty set of them like on Link’s back? Dude is pretty whether he’s a hylian or zora! Haha. Basically that one scene is like the equivalent of someone saying they’re going to chop off their double Ds, lol. No wonder Mipha and Sidon were horrified.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to get into the groove of fanfic writing. I hope everything is okay. Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! You've made some really bad days have really bright spots.

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

Link flinched, but realized Mipha was looking directly at Sidon. The prince squared his shoulders and crossed his arms, looming on Link’s right. Mipha pursed her lips, hand to her chest, and loomed on Link’s left. 

“Go to father to report like we discussed.” She said. 

“I’m certain father can tell that the rain has ended and the beast has stopped. The blockade is well within eyesight. In fact,” Sidon peered out from their high platform, the ugly shapes of the built up wall around the reservoir clear from their vantage point. The King, conspicuous in his bulk, was a dark spot against the stones. The prince waved wide and flashed his trademark fistpump. 

Link couldn’t make out the king’s expression, but he snorted in amusement as yet another royal crossed their arms. 

“Father doesn’t seem to approve of this change of plans.” Mipha said. Sidon waved a hand as if he was sweeping the words away. 

“I’m sure it’s not about me.” His gaze flicked down to Link. “Apologies, we weren’t able to introduce you to him in the chaos. We’ll do so when we’ve achieved victory here.” 

“Or you can introduce him now. VahRuta is my responsibility, and I can handle her alone.”

“Well certainly you could, but weren’t you the one who always said a shoal is strongest when swimming together?” 

“What is it you said when going to Hateno to slay the large Octorock? ‘Sometimes you have to do things alone.’?”

“And who was it that came with me anyway?”

“Sidon, I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt.”

“How long will you keep treating me like I’m still a fry? Remember last week at prac--”

Link’s neck gave an unpleasant twinge from turning his head from one royal sibling to another as they spoke. He rolled his shoulders and left the space between the two of them, climbing the incline to the entrance. If he remembered right--

First was an eyeball, easily taken care of by an arrow. Then--

Yes, there was a small guardian. He dashed up the steps and rammed his spear into the eye as its head turned. The thing shuddered and yanked, snapping the blade of his weapon off before falling into a twitching heap. He prodded it with the remaining pole, moody. 

The siblings were still arguing, seemingly unaware he’d slipped away. It was nice to see Mipha, so shy in his scant memories of her, so animated with her brother. 

He wouldn’t let her die again. 

Link pulled out his bow, and continued on. 

  
  


“If Link is staying, I’m staying.” Sidon said, looking down for support. He blinked at the empty space between them. Mipha frowned, the grip on her weapon tightening. 

“If he stays, I stay.” Sidon repeated, lower. “My instincts are saying to trust him, but..”

“Yes.” Mipha says, quiet. “But your head says elsewise. Mine as well. He’s hitting every alarm.” She scrunched up her face, rubbing a hand over her crest. “And yet I want to believe in him. It’s bizarre.” 

“Last year, what the mail rito said about the strange power of disguise the yiga have... Could he have meant something like this?” Sidon heaved a sigh. “No, it feels wrong to say. I want to believe in him. I WILL believe in him, unless he does something against us!” 

  
  


They caught up to Link in the next room. The small zora was observing a grate ankle deep in water. The two small fins on his head were perked up and forward in apparent interest, glinting gold. He was chewing on a claw, looking this way and that at the barrier. 

“Right. The first terminal is back there.” Mipha said.

Link nodded. 

“Just need to figure out a way to lift it.” He said, around the claw.

“Easy enough!” Sidon walked past Link and grabbed the bars low. He heaved, muscles straining, and the gate inched up. With a growl of effort he lifted it to shoulder height, risking a glance backwards. Link looked stunned, sharp fangs visible with his mouth popped into an o shape. Sidon shoved the grate above his head, just to show he could, and was rewarded by all of Link’s fins lifting. He caught another flash of gold as the tail at the end of his head fin opened up. 

The prince coughed, looking hastily forward. He could feel the scales along his shoulders bristling. Mipha walked under the grate, red lips in a teasing smile. She winked as she passed, hip checking him hard enough that he nearly lost his grip. Then Link was there, reaching up in vain as Sidon struggled for a moment. 

“If you lower it, I can help hold it.” Link said, in his raspy voice. 

“Thank you,” Sidon grunted, “but it’s not necessary.” 

It wasn’t that he doubted the other’s strength in combat, but in moments like this it was hard to ignore the fact Link was very small. Near Muzu’s height, despite showing no apparent ray-like traits. 

“How old are you?” Sidon wasn’t surprised when Link looked at him with confusion, it probably seemed out of the blue. But Sidon’s gut had clenched. Link had all the traits of an adult zora, fully, um,  _ very fully _ developed fins, the right proportions, luminescent spots, but the height and rounded nasal crest filled him with a sudden worry. 

“One hundred and nineteen.” Link said, expression closing off into the same neutral-nothing that seemed to be his default. Sidon was sad to see it return, but he still heaved in a relieved sigh. 

“We’re similar in age.” He said, feeling his tail wag a bit. He carefully lowered the gate after Mipha left the alcove, apparently finished with the terminal. 

“I only ask because I would feel awful having placed so much danger on an adolescent’s shoulders.” He said hastily. Behind Link’s back, Mipha rolled her eyes at him. He resolved to hide her diadem before the next important meeting. 

Link shrugged, face blank. His fins had flattened against himself again, his eyes dark contrast against the pale of his face. 

Sidon wasn’t sure what landmine he’d stepped on, but regretted triggering it. 

There was a splash as Mipha jumped in the water to handle another terminal. Link left wordlessly, exiting the room. Sidon hesitated, looking between the water and the outside walkway. But there was little he could do for his sister at the moment. 

He heard the sounds of battle before he hit the second floor, rushing in to see Link jumping back just in time to not get gutted. The small machine, like a miniature of the guardian the king had once fought and thrown from the cliffs, didn’t relent. It pressed it’s advantage, slicing a blue blade down. Link sidestepped, his tailfin an inch away from being sliced. The small zora lunged in, jamming the pole of his staff against the glowing eyespot. It glanced off, the blade on the spear seemingly having disappeared at some previous point. 

Sidon jumped forward to help, unsheathing his sword. His blow sliced through the tube of one leg, but the metal of the body resisted. Still, the momentum of the hit knocked it onto its side. Link scooped up the blade it had dropped and jabbed the lens. With a convulsive shiver, the thing exploded.

‘Eye is weak. Same as guardian.’ Link signed. He picked up the scraps left over as Sidon boggled at him. 

“You’ve fought guardians?” He asked, incredulous. Link looked at him. Some surprise had filtered through his empty expression. He nodded.

Sidon clapped his hands together, shoulders back and smile wide. 

“Of course you have! Have I told you yet how amazing you are?” Sidon caught the hint of a smile before Link looked down, one hand going to rub the side of his face and block it from view. The scales on his shoulders were a little bristled.

Sidon beamed. It looked like someone was weak to flattery, and Sidon was more than happy to oblige. 

“Spears, bows, and swords. How confidently you fight! Is there anything you can’t do?” Aside from swimming. And remembering he had gills. 

Link was looking sideways up at him now, his eyes crinkled with a small smile. Sidon leaned forward, elated. 

“Truely, you move like you were born for the battlefield!” 

The smile died, as did the bashful pose. Link relaxed into a neutral stance, and nodded at Sidon. He pointed to the waterwheel in the room. 

‘When Mipha arrives, can you hold this still?’ He signed. 

Sidon, reeling from the sudden mood whiplash, blinked.

“Ah. Yes. I should be able to.” He said. 

The rest of the beast went smoothly with the three working together. But, try as he might, Sidon couldn’t coax any expression back into Link’s face. Praise just seemed to sink him deeper away, like he was in dark water under ice. 

‘We’ll be attacked as soon as you try to regain Vah Ruta.’ He signed to Mipha as they sat to collect themselves. ‘Let me fight him alone, with shock arrows.’

“No. I am grateful for your help thus far, but this is my fight.” Mipha said, firmly. Link made a weird motion like he wanted to rub his headfin between his fingers before settling on rubbing his temples. 

‘The weakness will be the eye again.’ He signed. ‘Will you stay back until I hit it with shock arrows and stun the blight?’

“A blight of Ganon… Just how do you know its form and weakness?” She asked.

Link crumpled as if weighed down, putting his face in his hands and pulling his knees against his chest. It lasted a mere moment, then he stood, facing away from them. 

“I’ve fought it before.”

The royal siblings looked at each other in confusion. 

“Are you certain this one will be the same?” Sidon ventured. 

Link shrugged and nodded at the same time. The siblings looked at each other again. 

Mipha stood delicately, placing a gentle hand on Link’s shoulder. She could never resist comforting someone. 

“I will trust you.” She said, the words ‘for now’ lingering in the air unsaid. “But, when this is over… Will you please explain everything to us? For now, please tell us what to expect in the fight ahead.”

Everything went well; until it didn’t. His body was too slow, too heavy, too unbalanced, but he was  _ making it work _ . He fell into the familiar battle rhythm, his breath and movements trained into the synapses, and if not the muscles, the memory. The sheet music of this fight was already memorized. Bait a swing of the massive sword, take advantage of the distraction of the full swing, target the bright blue shine, and let an arrow fly. 

Nothing about his situation made sense, but Link didn’t need to think about it. He didn’t have to think of anything but his next move, his next breath. Sidon was right earlier, though he didn’t know the bullseye of his words. 

Link was born just for this; just for battle. 

Sank deep into the cadence of the fight, it was easy for him to slip up. 

It was easy to forget that for once, this wasn’t a solo piece. 

How he forgot one bright red fishperson, let alone two, was surprising. But when he baited the next swing, he caught sight in the corner of his eye of Mipha landing from a leap on the wrong side of it. In that split second his mind was overtaken, the oft-repeated nightmare sloshing into his brain like malice. Mipha, struck down by waterblight. How she must have looked, red red red, like a rose splayed open and petals slashed apart. She was dead. She had died. This was her tomb. Had she called for him or Zelda in her last moments? Or for her father, mother, even? 

If the Link he couldn’t remember had just been faster. Stronger. Smarter. Could he have saved her? 

Could he save her now? 

His muscles locked, canceling his dodge. He turned, having just enough time to hold his weapon up braced against the far flat of it by his other hand. The blow knocked his makeshift shield into his chest, blunting the lethal edge of the waterblight sword, but not the immense momentum. The air was knocked from his lungs, and Link was dragged along with the sweep. 

Flung like a ragdoll, Link rolled off the platform and splashed into the water. There was an inhuman scream as if the creature was hit out of his view, but all Link could do was try to gasp for breath. There was a rush of sound, and the water level in the room raised. It had progressed to that point, good. 

His gills opened as he bobbed, the flood of oxygen in his bloodstream as good as a weak elixir.

“Are you all right?” Sidon had popped up beside him, his hands steadying on his back. Link nodded, pulled himself together, and shoved a palm against the prince’s chest. He pointed to the waterblight, sending ice at Mipha, and Sidon nodded and disappeared back under the water. Link pulled himself onto one of the four floating platforms, took a deep breath in spite of the screaming of his chest, and fought on.

“Amazing! Stupendous! Both of you are paragons among zora!” 

“Sidon please,” another breathless giggle, “you were just as big a part in this victory.” Mipha broke off into more giggles as Sidon swept her up into his arms and spun around. He released her and turned to Link, who winced and held a hand palm out, his other arm clenched tight against his broken ribs. 

Sidon adjusted his plan quickly, going from his arms spread wide to taking the hand Link was blocking him with into his own. His eyes were shining, his smile infectious. They all had injuries, but were alive. Alive! All of them!

“The way you dodged! And struck it stupid! I will forever thank the stars for our meeting.”

Link pulled his own facefin, scuffing his toe claw on the ground, flustered.

‘I could have never stunned it without you knocking away the ice. And could have never been fast enough in the water to strike it unless Mipha was there to do so.’ He signed.

“Fine, deflect, the both of you.” Sidon laughed. “We are, all three then, outstanding.” 

“I’ll accept that.” Mipha said, trailing a gentle hand over the reclaimed central terminal. VahRuta made a purring noise, the blue lights around them burning bright. Mipha laid across the terminal with a long drawn out sigh. Link internally agreed, still standing only because exhaustion was a familiar cloak on his shoulders. Even Sidon seemed to be losing steam now the adrenaline was fading. 

“We should go and report to father.” He said, stretching with a grimace.

“No. I’m never leaving her again.” Mipha’s voice was muffled by her arms. Sidon peeled her off the terminal.

“Fine. But let me bring her closer.” She grumbled. 

Even in their joy, the zora citizens looked haggard and thin, some with patchy scales and wilted fins. As they applauded and cheered all around them, Link did his best to hide between the bulk of the royal siblings. Their gratitude felt clostering, a salve he didn’t deserve slapped on so thick it was suffocating. Casting out any and all shreds of Ganon was his job, what he was born to do. What he’d failed at before, and apparently failed at again. To be thanked for this was like being thanked for breathing air.

Painful.

Link pressed the arm bracing against his ribs tighter, the stab of pain a familiar relief and clarity through the haze. He squeezed harder when the crowd broke to reveal the hulking form of the king, still floating in the water of the reservoir. King Dorephan had been nothing but kind and regal in his memories, but something deep inside Link always flinched at the very word ‘king’. Like an old wound scabbed over and out of sight, but with pus under the skin. He assumed it had something to do with the old Link of a hundred years ago, and tended to avoid thinking about it if he could. 

Mipha and Sidon knelt, so Link did as well to avoid being the tallest and thus most obvious. But the king’s eyes found him nonetheless, curiosity plain. 

“Rise, heroes. You have saved the domain this day. The heavy rain has stopped, and VahRuta is an ally once more. You have our deepest thanks.” He said formally. Then he grinned. “My children, well done! I could never have asked for more worthy heirs.” 

His enthusiasm boomed like a crack of thunder, and Link suppressed a wince. He ignored the twinge of pain as he rose to his feet with the other two, edging back away from them as they received another round of cheers from the crowd. 

He didn’t get far. 

“Father, this is Link! Fate smiled upon us this morning and arranged a meeting as I was out looking for a hylian.” Sidon took a couple steps back to place his large hand on Link’s shoulder. He probably didn’t mean to, but the sudden weight of it was a painful jarring on his ribs. 

“Yes, Muzu has told me about our new friend.” Dorephan said. Link could feel himself being appraised and instinctively tried to keep his posture neutral.

“We have much to talk about, all of us.” Said the king. “Including why you changed our discussed plans by boarding the beast yourself, Sidon. And-” he continued, as his son looked sheepish, “time for proper introductions and rewards. As for now, you three look like you need rest and healers. And no, Mipha. No more healing until you’ve had a proper sleep - you’re green around the gills.” 

The king regarded the crowd of his people. Tired. Worn down. But with the light of the new day shining in their eyes and expression. 

“It is time.” He said, voice a deep rumble. “We can finally return to our homes.”

The cheer this time was deafening, punctuated by the relieved laughs that sounded like choked back sobs. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underwater tunnels are scary and flying is harder than one would think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: Thank you soooo much for the reviews! Every time I got a new one it flooded me with happy feelings and spurred me on to write more on the chapter! I'm like an otherwise lazy dog who jumps up and does anything for treats lol.
> 
> Added another few tags. I'm feeling things out while writing, and it's become pretty clear to me that my Link is struggling with PTSD anxiety. He comes from a time post-Ganon where he and Zelda were safe enough for the repression to stop and flood them with emotions to deal with, and now he's been yanked right back into the boiling pot when he was just starting to come to grips with things. So he has some stuff to work through, but he won't always be like this!

Underwater tunnels were terrifying.

Link had determined in VahRuta that his nightvision had been enhanced, but something about the pitch darkness and knowledge there were walls all around him clawed into his chest and nestled like nettles inside his aching ribs. The light of the sun had just faded completely when there was a starburst of small lights far ahead of him. In their dim blue glow he could see the outline of the king’s massive bulk. Then more small lights at the king’s side. He could make out the muted shape of Mipha. Another group flared into being, this time beside him. Link flinched away and then had to bite down hard on a pained gasp. He spit the water out, eyes taking in the way the glowing blue dots lined the hammerhead crest of Sidon and trailed down along his fins.

The three royals had stopped, and Link was alarmed to realize they were all looking in his direction. He could even see Sidon’s eyes focused on him. The prince made a ‘go on’ motion, sharp-toothed smile suddenly more sinister in the ghostly light. 

The smile faded as the seconds dragged on and Link just stared at him blankly. 

“As a hero and as a guest of the royal family, it is your right to illuminate next.” Sidon whispered, bubbles of breath nearly covering the words. Link looked down at himself. Then.... Tried. He tensed his muscles. He thought of lights. He flicked his headfin and spread his tail. He squirmed in place. He closed his eyes and tried to feel the same static as when he fought the lizalfos. Finally, he shrugged helplessly at Sidon.

‘I don’t know how.’ He signed, skin crawling with the feel of so many eyes focused on him. Sidon was kind enough to smother his surprise quickly. He let out a weird clicking sound, and all at once the other zora lit up all around them. The procession started again, and Link soon realized he and the prince were making a bottleneck, like an old lady walking down a staircase and setting the pace for all those behind her. 

He frowned and let himself sink to the bottom of the path. The stone was well-worn and smooth under his knees. Sidon followed him down. 

“My friend, are you all right?” He asked. 

‘I think I’ll take the overland route.’ 

“But it’s so steep, and everything is still slick from rainfall! It could only make your injuries worse.” 

Link grimaced. ‘I’m just slowing all of you down.’ Physical pain would be a relief compared to this. He could feel the curious gazes upon his back like the shiver of a malice’s eye. 

Sidon was silent for a moment, then he straightened. He turned towards the zora behind them and signed something Link couldn’t see. His lights flickered in a pattern. 

“But sir,” he heard Bazz’s voice say. The guard had swum down to the two of them.

“What good is polite tradition when it alianates instead of comforts?” Sidon said in a low voice. Bazz looked away for a moment, then back. 

“Let me assist him. It’s clear he’s wounded, and as guard captain it’s the least I could do.” 

Sidon shook his head. 

“I thank you, friend, but we have done well together so far, and will continue to do so.” He said. His voice was firm enough to surprise both Link and Bazz, who made bemused eye contact. Bazz’s mouth turned up on one side in a small grin before he saluted the prince. 

He rose and his bioluminescent spots flickered much like Sidon’s had before. There was a sudden swishing of water as the rest of the zora left, taking their collection of lights with them. Link watched them go. It was like seeing a tangle of the night sky in a desert through a round window. A galaxy in motion, fading out.

Soon all that remained was the illumination of the prince, like a candle in a cavern. It was like the world had narrowed to this small hollow a few feet around them both. It felt private and intimate and somehow scary. Link chose to believe it was because of clausterphobia’s return. 

~~Being close was the same as being vulnerable~~

He looked down because the only other thing to look at was Sidon, and for some reason it was hard to do. The pale light brought out the harshness of the developing bruises across his chest, where he’d taken the blow from the blight. Here in the shadows they were dark and mottled and ugly. Something about them felt right for him.

He wasn’t going to think about it.

Movement made Link look up, and he saw a proffered arm. 

“We will go overland if you would really prefer, but… If you will instill your trust in me once more, it would be my honor to escort you through these tunnels.” Sidon said. 

Link considered for a moment before nodding. He grabbed Sidon’s arm and used it to swing himself up through the water to grab onto his shoulders, like he had before. Sidon made a surprised huff of bubbles, and the arm he’d been holding out remained up for a moment. Link realized perhaps he’d been meant to just take his arm, but Sidon recovered quickly and patted his hand with one of his own. The scales under Link’s fingers were a little prickly. 

“Right. Have a good grip? Here we go!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


For being a hero of the hour, Muzu and a lot of the elderly zora council were giving Link some nasty looks. Link was sitting at the corner of the room, a plate of food in his lap while a healer tried her best with his ribs. Broken bones were very difficult to heal correctly, he’d been told. Even when Mipha recovered, it may take some days to get back into fighting shape. Still, the wash of healing was good for pain relief, though he’d insisted he’d dealt with worse. Most of the zora seemed eager to spoil him, pointing out certain foods at the hastily assembled banquet or adding their tiny splashes of pain relief if they had any healing talent. 

Link stared at his heaped plate. Very little had been cooked, unlike the diplomatic dinners he and Zelda had received when he was a Hylian. He could admit he was a food snob, but life in the wild had quickly striped him of the luxergy of being picky. He could still remember his early days fresh from the plateau with no source of fire and no way to hunt. He’d found bird eggs in a nest and sucked them down raw, ravenous. 

Raw fish wasn’t worse than that. 

Mechanically, he took a bite, and felt the fins on his head perk up straight. He took another bite, and another. Soon, he was shoveling it into his face. 

“Remember to chew!” The healer giggled. Then she profered him a snail from her own plate. He slurped it from its shell, and she giggled again.

“I’ve never seen a zora like you before.” She said. Link wondered if she was out of magic, since she was touching his arm, but he felt no more healing. “Where are you from?” She asked, leaning into his space in her curiosity. Link felt exhaustion settle onto his shoulders like a set of plate armor. He shrugged, pulling back to lean on the column behind him. 

“Hmmm, mysterious.” She said. He was hyper aware of her fingertips on his arm, which shouldn’t bother him. It was one of those annoying flaws that flared up in him from time to time, so he swallowed down the feeling and looked away. 

A shadow fell over them as Mipha approached. Link gave her a tired smile, which she returned. 

“Gienna,” the princess said, towards the other healer, “how is our patient?” Gienna finally pulled back her hand from Link, grinning. She rubbed the side of her nasal crest and giggled again.

“Hopefully you’ll have more luck healing him tomorrow! We’ve all been tapped out. Keeping up the maintenance crew was, aha, constant maintenance. We all need a rest for sore eyes… Or a sight for them.” She said this last with a wink, before climbing to her feet. 

“Hope to see you again soon Link!” She left, and Mipha took the spot she’d been occupying. 

“Is anyone looking?” Mipha asked, seemingly content to look at her plate. Link looked around. 

“Yes. Many.” He said. Mipha sighed. 

“Too bad. I wanted to pass you some of the particularly good flume worms so you won’t have to get up to get them, but I don’t want to end up like Sidon.” 

Link titled his head at her. He could feel the headfins perking up a bit in curiosity. 

“He’s getting lectured,” she said to his unspoken question. “About propriety.”

Link titled his head the other direction. Sidon had always acted like a perfect gentleman around him, so he didn’t understand. Mipha watched him for a moment, patient and gentle. Link wished he remembered her more in life. 

“How much do you know about zora culture. Rather, zora domain culture.” She asked, voice low. 

Link hesitated, and then held his fingers up in a pinch motion a little bit a part. She nodded. 

“I thought as much. And tomorrow I’d like to hear your story. But for now, let me tell you a bit of ours.” She said. With a quick glance around, she sneakily hit a long flat worm from her plate down onto his empty one beside her.

“We domain zora have a lot of rules and cultural customs, particularly in the royal family. Though the elders weren’t happy with it, they were willing to permit some things in the plan we’d hatched up for VahRuta only because it would be a hylian involved.” She chuckled as Link slurped up the flatworm noisily before continuing. 

“Though it’s mainly the older generations and royals, physical touch among zora isn’t as casual as in other races. To the elders, Sidon has always been too loose with it. Grabbing hands to shake, resting his hands on shoulders, doing the ‘high five’ a lot during the craze after a merchant taught the innkeepers…” She smiled fondly. “He’s enthusiastic and friendly, but sometimes he can give others the wrong idea.” 

Link nodded. He knew what it was like to be expected to maintain distance, it was the same with Zelda. But he had trouble imagining Sidon as anything other than energetic and loveable. As for the misunderstanding, he could understand that too. As a hylian, after his first (post awakening) meeting with the prince… 

Well, he’d been the first example of exuberant kindness Link had stumbled into, half starved and empty of memories and direction and comfort. It wasn’t hard to have gotten the prince confused with the sun breaking through the clouds and soothing his aching for the first time. Filling his chest with warmth.

It’d been easy to misunderstand; without understanding. Without knowing the words.

But Link knew himself better now. And despite what Zelda had said, had huffed, had  _ insisted _ , he knew what feelings could only be directed at him by mistake; whether theirs or his. 

He only had one purpose.

Mipha was observing him now, daintily patting at her lips with a handkerchief. 

“That isn’t to say that’s always the case.” For some reason she winked at him. He didn’t know what to do with that, so Link used a claw to scrape out the last bits of snail from a shell. 

“In any case,” she continued, “co-swimming is usually reserved only for close relatives or intimate partners.”

There was a grinding sound as one of Link’s fangs scraped across a piece of snail shell; the surprise had made him clack his teeth shut. He spit out the small piece of carapace into his palm, before looking up into the dour stare of an elder across the room. He shrugged at him, turning his attention back to the princess. 

‘Is that why I’m getting the evil eye from a few people?’ He signed, miming the expression. She tittered and nodded. 

“Of course, anyone sensible knows the first case was an emergency, and the second you were injured. And even if not, outside of the nobles, I’ve seen friends do it. The counsel is just… Fusty.” She sighed. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, letting the blurred sounds of celebration wash over them. The banquet hall was open air, but luminous stone torches of both blue and gold had been dragged into it in case the party traveled into the night. Their light shone against the scales and jewelry of the zora, making a glinting garden of color. It reminded Link of the fairy fountains and the desert oasis in one. 

Were they in trouble once again, while he sat here indolent? 

He was rubbing his temples when Mipha cleared her throat. He looked at her, and titled his head when she looked hesitant. 

‘Do you need something?’ He signed. She shook her head, the formal diadem on her crest tinkling softly. 

“Pardon me if I’m overstepping,” she said, “but your avoidance of using your voice… Is it a physical injury? I may be able to assist you, if it causes you discomfort. After I mend your ribs, that is.”

Link shook his head, a rueful twist to his mouth. 

‘Is fine.’ He signed while pointing to his throat. He tapped his head with his fist and then signed ‘Is a mess’. 

Mipha passed him another flume worm, smiling sadly. 

“Aren’t we all.” She said with a sigh. In the distance VahRuta trumpeted, filling the air with a brassy song.

  
  
  
  


The world was nothing; just an inky blackness. Link felt like he was falling, or traveling, or slipping through something. Or perhaps nothing was slipping through him? It was timeless. It stretched eternally, and was over all at once. Link opened his eyes to find himself sitting in front of a low fire with a cauldron hung over the top. Something was simmering and the air smelled thick with it. Or felt thick with it, like humidity. Link couldn’t tell if he could smell anything. His senses were all blurred. 

Was there someone humming? Behind him. Link wanted to look, but he couldn’t feel his body. 

Did he have one? 

Huge legs came into view, passing by him without a pause. They went around to the cauldron and bent, bringing a man into his field of vision. He had ginger hair and fair skin, and was wearing purple. Link… remembered, like recalling something through a haze. 

...A...deal… 

...A...death…

….A...line of masks…

….Reaching...out…

The man looked up, and though his eyes looked closed, Link felt pinned by his gaze. 

“Now, now.” The man giggled, like he was scolding an indolent toddler. “The deal is done. Get out of there, it’s not yours anymore.”

  
  
  


The nothing returned.

  
  
  


Link woke to drowning. He thrashed for a moment, not knowing up from down, gagging on the water burning his throat. He clamped his hands over his mouth to prevent gulping in any more, letting his body depend on the gills he felt flaring at his side until he’d gotten himself under control. He could see other zora looking at him, having ducked their head under the water to see why he was making such a racket. They blinked blearily at him, and he could feel his face heat up. He turned away from them, and pulled himself out of the communal sleeping pool. Stumbling shakily to the guardrail, he hacked up the contents of his burning chest. His injured ribs felt like knives in his lungs.

Link could vaguely remember crawling into the pool last night, the exhaustion of the two days finally falling onto him like a curtain. It was dawn now, the sunrise painting the domain with hints of pale pink and orange. Link rubbed his face, staring at the bridge in the distance. 

He could slip away now, tired and sore, but out from under weight of any explanations. 

The thought of opening up; of saying any of the madness out loud… 

Link would rather go face Ganon again right now, armed with a ladle and soup lid. 

The bridge was far below. The perfect easy descent for the paraglider. Link hesitated a moment, hands going to fiddle with the buckle of the belt around his waist that was holding the large back fins down. He wondered…

The belt slipped down his hips and coiled around his feet. He stepped out away from it, climbing onto the guardrail. The stone was smooth and slippery from condensation, but sun-warmed against his soles. The breeze had just a trace of chill, and the silky ripple of it against his flesh sparked a sense of something… Good. Something fresh, like the long lost call of an old friend half forgotten but always lingering. 

The call of the unknown. 

The breathing of the wilds. 

The wing-like fins twitched and rose, answering the sudden wanderlust. They ached and shivered, like an hour old fawn taking their first steps. But he would overcome and push through. He always had, and he always would. 

Link gripped the hardened ridge of the fins, mindful of his claws. He tensed. One long breath in--

“Link! Ohh!” 

Link’s muscles twitched as he tried to abort the leap, yanking back on himself as he was already tipping forward. But it was too late. His toes slid from the railing, and he was suddenly falling at a much sharper angle than he’d intended. 

Instead of the far, gentle glide he was hoping for, it was more of a long swan dive. He sliced through the air, learning at once how different steering was from the paraglider. In the last bit he managed to angle his fins up and skim across the surface of the basin for a few feet before skipping like a stone and sinking under the pull of the water. 

Under the surface the huge fins dragged at him, resistant to movement until he snapped them closed. He bobbed to the surface, but his buoyancy was lost. He felt heavy again, weighed down. The light in his chest dissipating like the last embers turning to ash in the breeze. 

He saw the twin reds of the royal siblings diving gracefully after him, and sighed. 


	5. Swimming Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments! Every time I started feeling stuck it seemed like another comment would come along and grease the wheels of my brain. I appreciate you all so much!

Link reported like a soldier. Factual. Short. Concise. 

But what he said…

Sidon realized his mouth was hanging open, and snapped it closed. The sound seemed to remind Mipha of the same, and she put a delicate hand up to cover the lower half of her face. They looked at each other, and then at the King, who’s brow was lowered in concentration. 

Link stood in a parade rest, eyes as blank and dark as chips of obsidian. The yellow fins laid flat against the curve of his head, and all the rest clung closed and tight to his body. He looked small and cold and unfamiliar. Like a doll, or a statue. Sidon had trouble connecting this Link to the one with shy smiles and calloused but gentle hands. Or the one who did such odd, but frankly adorable, things like forgetting he had gills or insisting on moving his arms to swim. Or even the one full of fire and movement, using himself as a shield and jumping into danger for people he didn’t know.

\--Or, did know? In a past life? An alternate life? 

“That is… Quite the story.” Dorephan’s voice rumbled, pulling Sidon from his thoughts. 

Link nodded, staring blankly ahead. Sidon’s chest felt tight; unpleasant. 

“Link, you’re not on trial. Please don’t be so distressed! It’s simply a lot to take in.” He said, taking an impulsive step closer. He raised his hand and awkwardly hovered it near the other zora for a minute before letting it drop. 

Link blinked, his head angling a bit towards him. A small spark of life returned to his expression and posture, and Sidon felt the knot in his chest loosen. 

“A hylian champion...” Mipha mused, claw tapping her lower lip. She frowned and shook her head. “Zelda was-- Zelda is my bosom companion. After the fortune tellers predicted Ganon, everyone looked far and wide for someone able to wield the sword to seal the darkness, but they were never found.”

“It is strange,” Dorephan mused, “I am confident I have never heard the name Link, yet it feels so familiar. Like a dream that slips through your fingers when you awake.” He leaned down to stare at him. 

“Even so, such a story… It conflicts with everything I remember. In all accounts, it is simply impossible.” The king leaned back, brow furrowed.

“However, he swims like a hylian. Like Zelda used to, even.” Mipha said. “But, how would such a thing come to pass? Do you remember what happened before you became a zora?”

Link closed his eyes and strained through the fog of those moments, but it was like being obfuscated in the lost woods.  
“Falling. Pain. Choking.” He said. A hesitant pause. “A… Giggle?” 

The zora all looked at each other. 

“Could it be, you hit your head?” Mipha asked, tentative.

“But then how could you explain him knowing about the blight and the layout of VahRuta?” Sidon said, shaking his head. She bit her lip, staring at the floor in thought. 

“There are a lot of things we can’t explain.” 

Sidon wasn’t sure what it was, because Link’s posture and expression didn’t change, but something about him wilted at her words. Mipha seemed to sense it to, and she reached out a dainty hand and made a movement as if she wanted to brush away his reaction. 

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” She assured. “I don’t feel you are lying, but perhaps your memories might have been affected by such a fall?”

‘It wouldn’t be the first time memories have failed me.’ Link signed. His hand movements were harsh and his eyes the chips of obsidian once more. He turned, in the direction of the far off castle. Sidon’s breath caught, his instincts tingled a warning through his lateral line. It felt like being on the brink of a cliff. Link there beside him, but toeclaws over the edge. 

Something told him that if he let him go, Link would disappear from sight, possibly forever. 

Muzu was always nagging him that he was too impulsive, that he relied on his good instincts too much. But Sidon couldn’t help it--

He reached out and grabbed Link’s arm, felt the muscle tense as the small zora turned to him in surprise. He wanted to make him smile again. To chase away the sense of goodbye. 

“Link, after healing, let me teach you how to swim as a zora!” He said, beaming. “It could be useful!” Link blinked at him, those unfathomable eyes like staring into the water of the domain in a starless night. He nodded. Some life returned to his finns, and, no longer plastered against his scales, the ones on his head bounced with the movement. Sidon watched them, mouth dry. 

“Meanwhile, father and I’ll try looking into any record of a hylian transforming into a zora.” Mipha said. The king nodded his assent. His wry smile prickled on Sidon’s scales, and the prince took his hand away from the once hylian. 

“The bruising is looking better.” Mipha said. Link looked at the thick band of purple and green across his chest. It had faded to look a couple weeks old with the ministrations of Gienna and the other healers that morning. It had been, hmm, itchy? Itchy, somehow to be the center of so much attention. It seemed that half the domain had found reasons to come to the infirmary. 

Some had just looked at him through the corners of their eyes, others brazenly forgoing excuses to be there and just talking to him outright. A couple had shyly bumbled over their words, and one had even squeaked and thrown a shell at his head before fleeing. There were a lot of shells and little baubles, small shiny rocks or geodes you’d find in the waters. Link didn’t know why they insisted on giving them to him, other than as a reward for VahRuta, which he didn’t want. But after his first few rejections of them led to such sad reactions, he gave it up. His discomfort wasn’t worth someone else's. 

If he hadn’t moved on so quickly after VahRuta the first time, would he have been the recipient of such things? It may have helped fund his journey. For now, he just had to figure out the right merchant to pass these to. 

Mipha was eyeing the small pile of presents now, smiling in a way that made her eyes crinkle. She looked foxlike; red and mischievous. 

“Someone’s popular.” She said. Link didn’t know how to respond to that, so he said nothing. After a minute of silence, she raised her glowing palms once more. He felt the trickle of healing magic, so gentle compared to the bursting flood of her grace, which had always hurt as much as healed. 

“It was lucky these were just slightly cracked. You should be careful for a few days, but another day or two and you’ll be right as rain. Does it hurt you much?”

Link shook his head. Moving or twisting the wrong way would send a sharp stab, but on the scale of things he’d dealt with, it wouldn’t even show up. 

There was a knock at the column near the open door space, and Link and Mipha turned to look. Sidon was there, a characteristic smile one his face. 

“Link! Are you cleared for swimming?” He asked, ducking down to get through the doorway. His eyes fell on the pile of things near Link’s bed, and the smile faded for a moment, before he turned back to him and it brightened. 

Link looked at Mipha, who contemplated with her palm to her chin.

“Nothing too intense, but I’ll allow it.” She said. Sidon’s tailfin gave a small wiggle.

“Splendid! Link, we’ll go a bit out of the domain, but I’ve thought of the perfect spot.” Link hopped off the bed and followed him as he left. 

“Link,” Mipha called, and the both looked back. “I’ll have your gifts set aside for you.” For some reason she winked. Link looked at Sidon in time to see him smoothing over an expression he must have shot her. The prince cleared his throat with a chuckle under Link’s curious gaze. 

“Shall we?” He asked, and continued on.

“Whoa! You ARE pretty!” 

They were passing through the plaza near the gates to the bridge when the voice rang out, so loud that Link flinched. He looked down at the small zora child, her pink scales brilliant in the light. She was hopping on her toes, staring at him. 

“Whoa, they do go up! Like blupee ears! Lemmie see!” She motioned for him frantically until he knelt down, a fish out of water. She stared at his headfins, and Link felt them sinking down under the attention. 

“Make them go up again!” The girl demanded, stamping her foot. Link tried to figure out the muscles, but so far they’d been involuntary, apparently wrapped around his feelings and curiosity. After a second of straining, they twitched and then pressed flat. 

“Awww…” The girl grumbled, but then was back to excitement. “Bro says you have huge pretty fins on your back and you can fly! Can I see them? Will you show me?”

“Rosea! You can’t just ask someone to show you their fins!” Another zora said, agast. He was shorter than Link, perhaps a preteen. He was trying to pull the little girl away, hands hooked under her arms as she struggled. His face was -bruised? flushed?- a blue purple.

Link looked at Sidon. 

“Is it wrong to show your fins to others?” He asked. The prince looked startled.

“Um, no, it’s perfectly fine to show fins. It’s just, uh, when someone asks, it’s a bit. Well, fins like yours are-- I mean, fins in general.” Link had never seen Sidon flustered, outside of the memory of his father complimenting him. Link stared, head tilted to the side. 

“Mamma says there is nothing wrong about showing what you have.” Rosea said. “She said it to daddy. And I wanna see fins that can fly! Can you show me, please?” 

Link felt the prickling of eyes on him, and glanced around. A lot of lingering zora were suddenly very busy with what they were doing, or looking at the sky. 

He turned back to Sidon, who seemed to have pulled himself together. 

“Would it be inappropriate to let her see them?” He asked, bluntly. The fins meant nothing to himself, but the thought made him sick. He’d get the belt again if it was like going naked.

“No.” Sidon said, shaking his head. “It’s all about context. And there is nothing inappropriate about fins, outside of some signals in certain situations.” 

Link was about to ask what those were, but closed his mouth. He didn’t need to know: he’d be gone in the next couple days. Anything not able to be used for combat was unnecessary. 

So he centered himself and fluffed his backfins out. The membrane shimmered gold in the sun, light beaming through to show the lacework of ridges and veins. 

“Whooaaa!” Rosea said, eyes sparkling. 

He was definitely feeling everyone’s gaze right now, and the weight was like losing stamina on a cliff that just kept going. They flipped closed on their own, and Rosea let out a long whine. Her brother pulled her away, mumbling apologies. 

Link shivered, brushing off his shoulders as if they were the feelings of so much attention. 

“Shall we?” He asked Sidon. Sidon nodded, posture strangely formal. 

Swimming ached like a splinter between the lining of his lungs, but it was bearable. What was less so was the fact he was abysmal. In theory, it was simple. Keep arms pinned, undulate his body and headfin. In practice? He didn’t know what he was doing wrong. Link had hoped it’d be instinctual, but he felt like a fool as he corkscrewed around, fins and tail and body all tugging and shifting him. Not breathing in took conscious effort, despite his gills fluttering at his sides. It warred with the ingrained habit of taking a breath before engaging his muscles in something; probably trained into him by swordsmen he couldn’t remember. 

Also turning was a bitch.

If he managed any speed in a straight direction, trying to change it was a confusing tangle of his fins or tail dragging him wide. He floundered to a stop again, jaw aching from how hard he grit his teeth. 

“You’re fighting yourself. You have to move every part in harmony.” Sidon said, at his side. Link glowered, and found himself lurching sideways. His headtail had lashed, apparently reactive to his mood. He grabbed it harshly, claws biting into the flesh. Pinpricks of pain helped to center him, but then there was another distraction. He smelled. Or tasted? Or something weird in between - something coppery and slippery and bright. Link ran his tongue over his gums, thinking perhaps he’d bitten himself. 

But there was no blood in his mouth. The smell faded, and he turned to look at Sidon. For some reason he’d swum some distance away, but Link couldn’t see anything of interest or a threat. He couldn’t see his expression from there, so he shrugged and started to practice once more. 

It was a couple hours later and Link had only marginally improved. Sidon was a patient teacher, but he was an impatient learner. When his irritation with his new body mounted, he’d get worse. He felt more and more like a stranger in his skin, like he was trapped inside someone else’s body. Locked tight inside flesh that felt alien and wrong. There were too many limbs to control. Everything was off, just a bit to the side of before. Touches felt different, duller through scales. Vision was sharper further, clear through gloom and dank. Smell and taste were blurred and where even was his nose and why didn’t he have to breath in and why couldn’t he shut it off and--

“Link!” 

He could hear Sidon’s voice as if underwater. Well, underwater before he’d been able to hear perfectly in it. Link’s hands were clamped against his mouth, though he didn’t remember putting them there. He also didn’t remember curling in on himself. The silt of the lake floor was soft under his bottom and between his toes. His knees were boney where they pressed into his stomach. 

“That’s it. Unclamp your gills. Let the water in. There you go.” Sidon was saying. He was kneeling in front of him, hands held out with palms forward. He brightened when Linik made eye contact. 

“Copy my gills.” He said. They flared out wide at his sides. Link’s were sluggish to follow, fluttering in small tight movements. But he focused on the slow and steady rise and fall of Sidon’s and eventually the tension in his chest loosened and his breathing eased. 

It was motifying to be caught, a weak moment pinned like an insect to a frame. Only Zelda had seen him in one of those fits before, and only the fact he’d helped her through a few of her own had lessened the sting. But Zelda was a person, not a weapon. 

Link wasn’t allowed to break. 

“Let’s take a break.” Sidon said. And his kind tone stung worse than any reprimand. 

Link shook his head, kicking off ground and causing a billowing cloud of muck. 

“Are you certain? You really are much improved!” Sidon said, swimming in a circle around him. “You’re learning quickly, but you shouldn’t push yourself.”

Link gave him a look, lined up his tailfin, and took off.

A little while later, he broke through a school of fish. They darted in every direction away from him, and his claws and teeth clicked on empty water. He huffed out a breath, the bubbles tickling his crest. He hadn’t even intended to hunt them, really, just acted on instinct. But now that he’d missed, he could feel the hunger churning in his stomach. 

There was a sliver of the coppery smell-taste again, and Link looked over to see the last bits of a fish disappearing into Sidon’s mouth. He had another in his hand, which he brought to his jaws and beheaded with one bite. Link should have felt queasy at the sight, but if anything he found his mouth watering. 

“Excuse me.” The prince said, finishing the meal and tapping at his mouth like a noble using a handkerchief. He looked a little sheepish. 

“I was growing quite hungry.” He said. 

Link nodded, hand on his empty stomach. He saw the flash of scales around a rock formation below and arrowed in, but the small fish darted easily out of reach. Frowning, he tried again in the shadows of the rock, but all traces of fish were gone long before he arrived. 

He huffed out another bubble of anger. 

Another flash of blood. He watched an additional fish disappear down Sidon’s throat. After a few more rounds with no success, Link swam up to the shark zora, fins mantled. 

‘Will you catch a fish for me?’ He asked. To his surprise, Sidon jerked his head back, mouth popping open and eyes wide. 

“You, uh. You want me to catch a fish for you?” He said, words spaced apart and lilting. The lighting under the surface shadowed the pale flesh of his face oddly, like purplish smudges across his cheeks. His scales were a little bristled, and Link had the strangest desire to reach out and smooth them down. 

Link blinked, tilting his head at Sidon’s odd reaction. Was it really so unbelievable he was hungry too? 

“Yes?” Link said. “You’re clearly amazing at catching them?” 

Sidon’s jaw dropped, before he hastily schooled his face to hide his surprise. But the happiness practically bled out of him. Link had to wonder, really, how many compliments the prince actually got. Clearly not enough, if stating a simple fact made him look so very pleased and flustered, a smile forcing his eyes into crescents. Sidon’s chest puffed out, and Link realized again how big the prince was. Here under the surface the dips of his muscles were accentuated with shadows, and Link had never seen his pectoral fins so wide and impressive. 

Sidon beamed and was gone in a flash of fins, so quickly that Link could hardly track the movement. He cut through the water, a blur of red. 

Show off, Link thought to himself, as the prince flipped and flourished, corralling fish into a group with ease. He toyed with them more, flashing Link a cheeky grin as he herded them to and fro. Link crossed his arms, torn between awe and impatience. Finally, Sidon shot through the schoal, coming out with a fish in his teeth and two in his hands. 

He stopped a couple feet away from Link, head pushed out like he was proffering him the one in his teeth. Link ducked down and took the one from his hand instead. It was too large to behead with his mouth, but he bit down quickly behind it’s head to kill it as painlessly as he could. The taste and smell of copper was almost overwhelming, like a static shock to his nose.

As he pulled away, Sidon blinked at him, head titled as if he was puzzled. 

Link mirrored his movement, scarfing the food - even the bits he would never have eaten before, like the bones - down. It wasn’t tasty, but it was efficient. 

Sidon was still facing him, head pushed forward. He was very close. Link was reminded of a dog with a stick in its mouth, eager to play fetch. Amused, he reached out and grabbed the fish by the tail, careful to avoid the prince’s face. Sidon didn’t let it go at first, and when he did, he blinked with a furrowed brow. Like he was confused.

‘Something wrong?’ Link asked. 

The prince’s eyes widened, and he hastily pushed back a few feet, the water sloshing against Link and catching at his finns. Sidon cleared his throat.

“No, nothing!” He said. “Minor misunderstanding, but regardless. Link, you truly have been showing remarkable progress for such a short time! It takes young zora much longer to grow into their gills, as one would say.” 

Link focused on the fish he was systematically eating. The prince was kind, but Link didn’t appreciate being lied to. Compared to the show Sidon had just put on hunting the fish, Link was as mobile as a rock. 

He crunched through the bones, the cracking under his teeth ringing in his ears, and thought of Ganon. 

The drag and crunch.

Bones popping. 

The smell of malice, like congealed blood and rotten flesh. 

The unearthly shriek of the calamity; a shot to the nerves of his spine. 

Zelda’s light, fading.

Was she waiting for him in this world? Or just fighting on without the light of hope for the end of her torment? 

“I think this has been enough training for the day. Mipha did warn us to be easy, and we pushed past that mark a couple hours ago.” Sidon’s voice was saying, somewhere far off. 

Link shook his head. 

He took a deep breath through his gills, and dived into practice once more.

The champion had never known the luxury of time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link be like: I am why I can't have nice things. 
> 
> Link the zora returns to the domain, needing assistance getting to a special place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the massive wait for this update. Basically, bad stuff happened irl. I suffered a huge loss. Times are bad. But I’m slowly coming back into myself now. Getting nice comments out of the blue lately has really helped me get inspiration to write again. Hopefully updates will be much more timely from now on. Thank you all for reading and commenting, it really brightens my day so much.

When Link disappeared on the third day, he left his guitar behind. Sidon kept it in his room for safekeeping. He’d forgotten to ask the hero about it in the brief time of his visit, too swept up in the action and mystery he’d brought with him. 

Link had been like a lightning strike: a flash of brightness and force and wonder that was gone all at once. Sidon tried not to be disappointed. You couldn’t grab lightning after all, or hold it in your hands. 

No matter how beautiful it was. 

No matter how dangerous it could be (in that thrilling way).

Sidon sighed through his gills, plucking a cord. The note hung in the air, dulcet but low. 

It had been nearly a month now, since Link left. Without even a goodbye.

Another sullen note, followed by a basic scale. 

The instrument was too small for him; most things were. 

Breakable. 

Despite how tiny the zora was; Link didn’t seem breakable at all. 

“Ah, up here to pine?” 

Sidon jerked, the cords screeching. Discordant. Mipha had arrived unheard. She sat down beside him, dipping her legs into his sleeping pool. There were purpled circles under her eyes and her scales were pricked in places. A lack of rest and water. 

Sidon frowned. She’d been spending most of her time in the divine beast, disappearing for days at once. Father feared the worst: that soon she would try to go to the castle herself. Sidon had been very young when Zelda was around, but the way his father and the elders would speak about the two princesses… 

He had more than a trivial reason to hope that Link made it back. If he really had beaten Ganon before--

Instead of answering Mipha’s words, Sidon shoved her into the water. 

She squeaked and then sank into it, limp like a corpse. He watched the bubble from her sigh rise to the surface and pop. 

Outside the sun was setting, and a brisk breeze promised an early cold snap. In the distance, thunder rumbled. 

Sidon wondered if it would bring lightning. 

Link arrived that night, soaked in blood. And, by the time the alert had arrived to the royals, apparently on the edge of death. Thus, when Sidon and Mipha burst into the medical wing, they were surprised to see Link sitting casually on a stool and eating leftovers from that night’s dinner. 

The three blinked at each other, trying to catch up with what they were seeing. Then Link, looking a little bashful, gave a tiny wave. The understated movement released the tension in the air, and Sidon let out a laugh as Mipha shook her head. 

“The messenger apparently overstated the severity of your condition.” Mipha said, dry, pulling up a stool. 

Link’s smile was a cute thing, small and with his fang’s points pressing little dimples into his lower lip. It disappeared when he stuffed the fish in his mouth to sign.

‘Most of the blood wasn’t mine. Lizalfos encampment. Took care of it.’ 

Sidon was just opening his mouth to cheer his gratitude, when Mipha yanked forward in her seat and grabbed at Link’s hip. 

“Is this a sheikah slate?” She asked, breathless. 

Sidon looked at the thing. A brown rectangle with orange spots. He couldn’t understand why she sounded on the brink of tears.

If unsettled by the intensity, Link didn’t show it. He nodded and handed the thing over. Sidon watched it light up under her fingers, displaying a very partial map. 

“It’s not Zelda’s.” Link’s raspy voice was hard to hear. Sidon knelt on one knee to bring himself closer to the other two.

“I was able to... Convince Purah, a sheikah scientist, to give me her slate. It doesn’t have as many functions, at least not yet.” Link rubbed the side of his nasal ridge. 

“I was hoping for some help.” 

“Anything!” Sidon said, at once. Link smiled again, and Sidon could feel his answering beam. 

“There is a plateau, and a special shrine. Middle of Hyrule.” Link said. His voice was trailing off, as if used up. He switched to signing. 

‘I think I may be able to initiate this slate there. Update it.’ He picked at the food on his plate. ‘It’s tall. Hard to climb. At least now.’ His face squinched, bitter. Sidon wanted to reach out and smooth it with his fingers. Link looked sidelong at Mipha.

“You want Vah-Ruta’s help?” She guessed. He nodded, looking relieved he didn’t have to ask outright. Sidon wondered if he had trouble asking for help, and filed it away for later.

Mipha considered for a moment, face scrunched in thought. 

“Yes.” She finally said, as if coming from a daze. “Yes, that could be perfect. I’ve been wanting to take her further out of the domain. It would be good practice.” Sidon had a familiar sinking feeling, but he pushed it down.

‘Thank you.’ Link signed. He stood and started to sling the pile of weapons behind the stool onto his back. 

“Right now?” Mipha said, which was good, because Sidon’s mind was too busy trying to understand the weapon pile and how in the world someone so tiny could possibly carry them all, how were they latching on, and was that a twitching Stalizalfos arm!?--

Link looked surprised, and then a little guilty. He sat back down, the skeletal arm strapped to his back clutching and grasping at the air. 

‘You need time?’ He asked.

It was the middle of the night, but Sidon felt flush with energy. There was a kind of contagious electricity in the air around Link. Mipha seemed similarly tempted for a moment, but she sighed.

“Responsibilities.” She grumbled. She stood. 

“You two get some sleep.” She said, as if that was at all possible when Sidon was so excited. “I’ll go handle father.” 

Sidon stood, torn for a moment. 

“I must go as well.” He said, finally, tail fin giving a flick of irritation. “Father will not want both of us to go at once, so I will need to convince him. But, you-- You will be here in the morning?” His mood lifted as Link nodded.

“Splendid! We have much to catch up on! You simply must tell me of your adventures this past month!”

As he left, he could have sworn the stalizalfos arm moved in a mockery of a wave, but it was hard to focus on something so minor when Link’s small smile snagged his attention like a fish on a lure. 

It had never felt good involving others in his quest with the visions of his failures haunting like literal, if helpful, ghosts. And even now without the whispers of the dead champions, their absence itched like a reminder that their spot could be filled again. If he was too slow. Too weak. Too distracted. Too needy.

But Link couldn’t see another way. His stamina was growing, and he’d been adjusting, but his body just wasn’t as suitable for climbing sheer surfaces anymore. Still, he might have been able to manage it if the region around the plateau wasn’t being plagued by constant rain. This time without a convenient divine beast to beat up to clear it away. 

And the memory of falling -- of cracked ribs and pain and blood filling his throat and lun--

He’d _died_. He’d died, and it shouldn’t matter.

He should brush it off.

But when he dug his claws into the rough purchase of cliffs and climbed now--

When the pull of gravity tugged his vision to flicker down--

When he needed to take another breath and go higher--

He couldn’t. His lungs would freeze, his body go hot and numb and he’d _remember_.

Falling. Falling. Breaking. Dying. 

Vah Ruta gave a lurch, bouncing Link into a roll. The weapons strapped over his wingfins dug into him and stopped his progress until he’d sat back up and checked to see if anyone had seen him. 

Sidon was looking at him with the usual good humor, also apparently knocked onto his ass. He winked.

“Having difficulties, sister?” He asked. They were a few yards behind Mipha, who was standing over the control unit. 

“It’s very hard to judge the depths of things from here.” She said, primly. 

Out of the water, Vah Ruta was a lumbering behemoth, and the trip was slower than Link had anticipated. Sidon had been taking full advantage of the time, coaxing stories of his recent exploits from Link’s reluctant throat. There wasn’t much Link found very exceptional - a lizalfos ambush here, a moblin there, fleeing from lynal - but Sidon lit up at each retelling, and it was hard to not feel the flicker of contagious light, like the sun upon his face. 

“So, tell me of the sheikah. What was her name? Purah? Was she difficult to persuade?” He’d asked. 

Link had pinched a sidefin between his fingers, rubbing awkwardly, and Sidon had enough tact to change the subject to one of the many weapons Link was sporting. 

“I have your guitar.” Sidon said, hours later, breaking a comfortable silence. He’d been at the windows, watching Hyrule unfold with a rapturous expression. Link had just joined him, pacing the beast in a restless patrol. It took him a minute to remember what the prince was talking about: he didn’t make a habit of dwelling on things that couldn’t be used as tools of battle. 

“I’d love to hear you play it sometime. It’s notes have such a dulcet quality.” The prince said.  
‘Don’t know how.’ Link signed. At Sidon’s head tilt, he shrugged and continued. ‘It was with me when I woke up like this.’ He motioned to himself, and then paused, eyes narrowing. 

“A clue of some kind?” Asked Sidon. He perked up, eyes bright. 

A way back? Link wondered. He felt a spark in his guts, but refused to chase it down with kindling. He looked over to see Mipha’s back. She was swaying gently with Vah Ruta’s movements, humming a song Link had heard Zelda humm before. Alive. Alive.

Mipha was the last to hop from Vah Ruta’s extended trunk, and she turned to pat and praise the divine beast. Link kept a cautious eye out, hand on his bow. The divine beast wasn’t exactly subtle, and the whole plateau had doubtless shook as it planted its front feet as high as it could reach against the sheer cliff of the perimeter. But if the bokoblins were curious, they were keeping their distance, and he couldn’t remember any other threats from his early days here. 

But he couldn’t trust that things could be the same, so he stayed tense as they slowly walked their way up towards the broken ruins of the temple. 

The two behind him moved more slowly than he’d like, looking around so often that Link wondered if they’d crink their necks. He tried not to be impatient, tried to imagine seeing everything anew, but it bubbled in him and had him gripping his bow so tightly he heard a warning creak. 

It was a relief to spot an enemy, and a disappointment when it was over so soon. The bokoblin hadn’t even turned from it’s spot in front of the temple before Link had an arrow burrowed into the back of its neck. 

Gritting his teeth, Link swapped his bow out for a sword, and stalked ahead. Unfortunately for his nervous energy, there were no other monsters. Link cast a quick appraising look inside the temple, ducking in just to clear the secluded corners before leaving again. 

He bumped into the royals, who stood staring with open mouths near the entrance. Mipha’s hands were to her chest, and Sidon’s head fin was quivering with repressed wiggles. 

“I’ve heard my father speak of this place.” The princess said, voice hushed. “But even when I was young, I was never able to see it. A holy place for the hylian royal family.” 

She stared at the crumbling goddess statue, face serene. A beam of sun bounced light against her scales, a glow of ruby. 

“You can feel...The weight of history.” Her face scrunched the tiniest bit. “And, I think, a hint of regret?”

Link blinked and looked back at the temple, trying to see the gravitas - the wonder. But he just saw decaying wood and broken stone. Empty windows and glaring holes in defenses. An unfilled promise. 

‘Just be cautious.’ He signaled, and left.

Link didn’t expect Sidon to follow him rather than stay with his sister, but the prince jogged to catch up with him by the time he’d passed the pond. Link didn’t have to slow his pace once they fell instep: Sidon’s much longer legs meant Link was able to keep up his jittery impatience. 

There was no point in being nervous. Either the shrine updated his slate, or it didn’t. And he’d have to move forward with either decision. 

But his weakness - it clawed at him. Having to waste so much time traveling, in a body that struggled to keep up with even half of what Link had been capable of before--

The blessings of health and stamina from the goddess had ramped up so gradually before, it was hard to understand until he was missing them.

The weight of duty was crushing, and this new, weaker body buckled under--

A gasp from Sidon drew his attention, and Link fell into a ready stance, the weight of a sword familiar even if everything else wasn’t. 

But there was no enemy. Instead, the prince had stopped to stare, sharp toothed mouth open wide and the whites of his eyes showing all around. They had crested the hill, and all of Hyrule lay before them.

It was like living through a memory again. The vast sea of green. The gentle sweep of the wind. A calling; a longing of the unknown. The breath of the wild. 

Link turned away. He didn’t want to see Sidon’s face, to see the wonder there. Didn’t want to feel the curling of excitement in his guts, so he refused to give it soil until it curdled and died. Yet another weight to carry. 

Zelda was waiting, and this time he didn’t even have her voice in his head. How long would she fight, without hope of an end? 

So he shut out the world, and stepped into the cave. 

Getting access to the shrine was tricky. A solid wall lay between them and the inside, and it took a lot of combing to eventually find a small alcove to press his slate. The wall lowered sluggishly, and in bursts. Begrudging. 

Sidon looked somber, the blue light reflecting so ghost-like that Link’s claws bit into his palms as he tried to resist reaching out. In the end, he couldn’t. A gentle touch to Sidon’s arm had the prince give a little jerk and look down in surprise, and Link let out the breath he’d been holding. He couldn’t help but curve his hand against the warm solid flesh, and Sidon blinked before tentatively covering Link’s hand with his own. It was a good pressure, and Link felt his shoulders untense. He could feel himself smiling, small, and Sidon answered it tenfold with one of his own. 

Link pulled away, making towards the terminal. He avoided looking at the bed. A part of him was tugging him to it like a hook. He was so tired. If he could just… Rest. For a while. Return to the calm blankness.

But he had a job. So he ignored Sidon saying “So this is where you slumbered for 100 years? To hear about it is one thing. To see it is…” and placed the slate in it’s indent. 

For a while nothing happened. One heartbeat. Two. Three. But then light started to slowly coalesce. The notes were jarring, crumpled up and hesitant, but the bead of light pooled and dropped onto the slate - which lit up with a flicker. 

Link suppressed a shiver as he felt Sidon stand close behind him, his wingfins twitching restlessly at the proximity in his blindspot. He had to turn his head to the right to prevent his headfin dragging against the prince’s chest as he looked back. Sidon looked surprised, and then happy. 

“What a blinding smile!” He said, looking between the slate on Link’s face. “I can only assume things have gone well?” 

Link hadn’t realized he was smiling, but he could feel the finns on his head standing high. He nodded, and then shrugged. Tapping on the screen had everything looking enabled, if empty. But there would only be one way to be certain.

He left the cave with a much higher mood than they’d entered with, and stopped patiently when Sidon was struck dumb by the view again. But this time Link allowed himself to look out into the wilds of the world.

Allowed himself a little bubble of hope. 

It rose like fizz, tingling against the scraped sides of his core, and the weapons on his back clicked together as his fins rose. Link looked through the slate’s viewfinder, lined up sight, and dropped a bright red wayfinder onto the area he knew the original tower to be. Then he nudged the prince with his elbow and pointed. 

“Race you.” He rasped out, unclicking the belts on some weapons. Sidon looked confused when Link pressed them into his arms, but his smile was sunlight glinting on white teeth. It was infectious. 

“I fear you’ll have trouble matching my stride,” Sidon teased, “with those short legs.” Link rolled his eyes and passed over his second to last weapon, swinging his remaining sword to the front of his body. His wingfins lurched into life, spreading wide. Link grabbed the boney ridges at the top and winked. 

Three running steps and -- leap!

The plateau opened up before him, a sea of treetops rushing by in a blur of green. In some aspects, this way of gliding was aching similar to the kind he was used to. But the angles and movement were different; harder and less forgiving. He’d spent at least a week with a purple head from all of his crashes on the way to Purah, to the point the people at Hatano thought it was a natural gradient of his skin.

Sidon’s excited whoop faded fast, and Link let out a breathless and soundless cheer of his own.

Sidon was waiting at the waymark, leaning against the nub of the tower and examining Link’s bow. He glanced up, his smile playful, but also smug. Link tugged on a facefin, scuffing a claw in the dirt.  
“I got a little...Distracted.” He said aloud, because his arms were full. He set down the apples and mushrooms and a new spear he’d found. Then dropped the handful of korok seeds in a separate small pile. 

Sidon laughed at the haul.

“I wasn’t aware our race was a scavenger’s hunt.” He said, and leaned over to pick up the tiny golden....seeds. “What are these?” He asked, examining one close. Link winced a little.

‘Some things are better off unknown.’ He signed. He wished he could take the knowledge out of his own mind. Instead, he pointed to his head. A korok was sitting there, tiny nub hands gripping each of Link’s upper headfins like a set of painful reins. 

“Can you see him too?” Link asked. Sidon looked bemused, squinting hard at the spot Link indicated. 

“Pardon?” The prince said. “I think I saw a flicker of-- but no. Is there something there?”

“Korok.” Link said. “Forest spirit.”

Sidon stood, and bowed his head, arm across his chest in a formal motion. 

“Greetings, esteemed spirit. I am Prince Sidon, of the zora.” He said. It was nearly drowned out by the gasping cry of the korok. 

“So big! Whoa! So red! Whoa!” It chirped, yanking hard on Link’s fin’s in its excitement. Link plucked it off of his head and tossed it in a smooth underhand throw. The korok brought out it’s propeller as it crested the full height. The wind caught it, and carried it’s shrill giggles away.

Sidon blinked at him. “Did you. Did you just throw a spirit?” He asked. Link shrugged, bending to strap his weapons back onto himself once more. 

“In fact, was there really a spirit there? Or were you just teasing me?” Sidon asked, after a minute. Link secured the last weapon he wanted to carry, and aimed the slate at the rest of his things. In a beam of light, he stored the things into the very small inventory space. Then he looked up at the prince, smirking at the look of amazement. 

‘Who knows?’ He signed. ‘Some things are better off unknown.’ The prince let out a surprised huff of a laugh, and Link’s cheeks hurt. He realized he was smiling, too big, too wide. The muscles not often used stung. He schooled his expression, rubbing his nasal ridge until he was certain he was back under control. 

That was both the wonderful and dangerous thing about being around the prince, and Link remembered it well from his days as a hylian. He was infectious. Bright and warm like the sun and perilous like wild fire. It always made Link want to simultaneously seek him out and run far away until the warmth in his stomach banked into ashes. Ashes were a fit for Link. Cold. Gone. A memory of a thing lost. 

He didn’t deserve better.

But Sidon--

Being around Sidon--

The ashes were tinder, and he was a spark--

Link’s claws cut little crescents into his palm. He couldn’t make this mistake again. The prince deserved better. It didn’t matter that in his past life--

He scrunched his eyes closed, letting out a breath to chase away the memories. Then he looked at Sidon. The prince’s smile faded, golden eyed gaze flickering around Link’s face. He looked confused, and maybe a little sad. 

“Are you all--”

“Through here.” Link rasped, walking past him and into the small sheltering dome. “Hold onto something.” He said, and, after checking to make sure the prince was securely inside, he clicked the slate into its place. 

After the shaking and shuddering had ceased, Link helped Sidon onto his feet and followed him to the fence. They gazed out of the raised tower together, one in awe and the other in relief. Link looked at the slate’s updated screen, and the new map of the plateau. The fact that this slate, however sluggishly, was working like Zeldas was all that Link could have hoped for. 

“This is stupendous! I had no idea the slate had such powers!” Sidon was saying to his right. His voice sounded filtered through cotton, and Link blinked a few times to clear away the ringing in his ears. 

“I bet you could glide far from here.” The prince said, nudging him with an arm playfully. Link brushed away the bright sensation and shook his head. He motioned to follow, and left the more conventional way of stairs. 

Mipha met them at the front of the temple, her weapon in her hand. She sighed in relief upon seeing them. Link watched the two siblings for a moment while Sidon regaled her with all they’d seen in the past hours. They were vivid, gleaming red in the light. They were vibrant. 

They were distracted. 

Link slipped away, turning his back to the sun. 

He had shrines to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link be like: -feels a bit of happiness- : D  
> PTSD: ...hey. no.   
> Link: :l


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update for my birthday! Thank you so much for all the nice comments last chapter! It definitely gave me the push to get this one out faster. A warning that past/present tense gets kinda wonky in a section here, but it’s intentional because it was more fun to write it that way.
> 
> Alos, this fic now has fanart! I don’t even know what to say, I’m so happy! Look at this absolutely beautiful piece! https://twitter.com/kitsune2022/status/1330308565781897220?s=20

“I just don’t understand,” Sidon said, for the sixth time in the past couple hours. “Why would he just leave without saying anything? I-- We, could have helped him.”

Mipha took a breath and counted to five, praying to Hylia for patience with besotted brothers. 

“I don’t believe Link is used to asking for assistance. Or working with others.” She said, again. 

They were back at the temple, scales still wet from a dip in the nearby pond. The bass had been plump and easy to catch, despite Sidon’s restless laps, and Mipha was feeling kinder again with a full stomach. She gently touched his arm. Was this how bad she’d been, a hundred years ago? Always fretting over a certain Hylian, also too stubborn to accept help? 

Mipha turned her face, as she often did, in the direction of the Hyrule castle. The decaying masonry, twined with ivy, blocked her view, but she could see it in her mind. In her thoughts before sleeping at night, and her thoughts as they filtered in before waking. Always in the back of her head, a deep and thick anxiety. A greif. 

She sighed. Focusing again on what her brother was saying. 

“He’s done so much to help us. I just wish he would trust us more. That he would tell us what he was thinking - what he’s doing so that we may help.”

“Me as well.” Mipha said, still looking into the distance. 

“As would I.” 

The voice came from behind them. Sudden. Deep. 

The royal siblings reacted as children from the age of the calamity, leaping up and spinning around. They had their weapons out within a heartbeat.

Pointing at nothing. 

There was only empty air. 

“Zora manners have fallen in the past one-hundred years.” Said the voice. Recognition surged up the base of Mipha’s spine, but it _couldn’t be_. “Since when do you invade someone’s home and then turn your weapons upon them?” 

Again, it came from behind them. But there was no one there. Mipha’s spear lowered. She felt numb, a tingling in her limbs and lungs that didn’t want to expand. Sidon’s tailfin touched her own as he adjusted their stance to be back to back. 

“Our apologies. If you would but show yourself and show you mean no harm, we would be more than willing to talk peacefully.” He said. He sounded far off. 

“First you shall state YOUR business, Princess Mipha. Prince Sidon. Or has royal etiquette ceased to matter to the Zora in these lawless years?” 

“Your majesty.” Mipha said. Her voice came out like a croak. She felt Sidon’s tailfin smack against her own as he abruptly turned his head to look at her. 

“King Rhoam.”

Link’s arm ached. The scales of it were already ringed with a flush of violet of an approaching bruise. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea to take out the half broken guardian. 

But sweet Hylia it had been satisfying. 

The first time he’d awakened here, a hylian as fresh and fragile as a fawn, the thing had nearly killed him on his way to the bomb trial. 

When he had passed its corpse again on the way out, he’d made a rude gesture despite the twinge in his muscles. 

That was two runes down. The monks had been reticent and uncertain about giving him their orbs, and he could only hope the ones in the future would continue to. But, things were going as well as he could have hoped.

If only it weren’t so stupidly cold. 

His scales were thick. They should numb out the biting air in the snowy part of the plateau. Surely they were meant to withstand icy water? But maybe they numbed too well. All over. Especially in his brain. Instead of the deep shivers or the pain he associated with frigid weather, he felt… Slow. 

Like there was a blanket being lowered over his head, bringing no relief, but a muted dimness. 

Link slapped himself awake, and took another bite of his spicy skewer. The spices tasted different to his new tongue, and the flood of heat he’d been hoping for was more of a trickle. The snow still felt bitter on his skin. 

He was halfway to the shrine now. Turning back for a torch would waste as much time as he’d gain just pushing through it. 

Link grit his teeth hard enough to hurt, and continued on. 

The bokoblins near the shrine noticed Link’s approach. He cursed himself, ducking back too late and then launching forward. Zora’s webbed feet were like snowboots minus the warmth, but still his ascent felt torturously slow. He dodged a bomb barrel as it curved through the air above his head, cresting the slope. He swung his sword at the enemy whose arms were still raised from the toss, slicing a line across its torso. A splash of red on the snow. 

It squealed, recoiling, and another took its place. Link was forced back, a third bokoblin coming in from the side. 

The cadence of battle drummed in his mind. A dodge, a parry. A step forward, a leap back. His weapon had a shorter range than their spears, forcing him on the defensive. It was unfortunate that his shield had burst repelling the guardian’s shot. Evasion was a balancing act with slick snow and a sluggish body. 

It should have been easy. He’d killed this kind with nothing more than a treebranch before without a sweat. 

But he could feel the weakening of his limbs. Hear the world fading into a gentle buzzing. 

Link could play it safe, or make it fast. 

He chose the latter, jumping on an opening as soon as it was available and revealing his flank. His sword jabbed up through a monster’s chin and got stuck on the way out, scrapping back against bone, losing him precious seconds. Sloppy. He’d been aiming for the neck.

He twisted and yanked, using his momentum to slash at the remaining bokoblin. Before he could connect, there was a thud in his side, and a distant sort of pain that felt like it belonged to somebody else. His swordtip scored a wound across the creature’s face and it screamed like a stuck pig and fell away, clutching at it. Link pressed his advantage, one hand gripping the spear shaft stuck in his side, and the other stabbing forward and into its stomach. A thrust down, and the deed was done. 

Link stumbled back, stabbing his sword into the ground and leaning his weight on it like a cane. He turned his attention to the dull pressure of the spearhead. His scales had saved him from a wound that would have skewered a hylian, but it had sunk past their barrier, splitting a few apart and caving their shards into the flesh below. With shaky hands, he felt along the spearhead, grimacing to feel a few backwards barbs. Removing it would be tricky, and his familiarity of where important zora organs were located was low. 

Link sank to his knees, though it took him a moment to notice it. 

How annoying. What gave him the right? Over such a minor wound.

He just had to snap the haft. And deal with it after the dungeon. It was so close. He could see it. 

Well, when he opened his eyes. When had they closed? He forced himself to his feet, gripping the spear base to prevent it from jostling. 

The shrine. The shrine would be warmer. This bizarre reaction to cold would leave, and he could deal with the wound. 

The world danced under his feet, darkening and brightening at the corners. All he could hear was his breathing and the gentle scraping slush of stepping through snow. 

He was so sleepy. 

So, so sleepy. 

Urgency was a distant thought, thrumming somewhere else. 

But here was the shrine. 

He would get warmer, he would wake up.

Link pressed the slate against the terminal with shaky hands. 

It lit up. 

Link sighed a breath of relief. 

And then another. 

And then a frown. 

Instead of opening, the slate’s screen lit up. 

_Recalabrating. 1%_

Oh. 

Talking to a dead monarch was intimidating. It wasn’t the being dead, so much, though that was a barrel of fish Sidon was going to have to unpack later, probably in an existential crisis before falling asleep one night. No, it was the being Rhoam part. 

His own father was notoriously easy going for a king. Fair and jovial. Many elders on the council made up for him by being stern, but even the most iron jawed of them would struggle to match even half of what the deceased king of Hyrule radiated. Hard disapproval rolled off him like waves, his eyes sharp and his lips thin. 

Sidon would be relieved that he’d rarely glanced his way, but the king’s hard stare had pinned itself to his sister, and that was even worse. Mipha was more than capable of taking care of herself, but for some odd reason she seemed small before him. Diminished. Sidon didn’t like it. 

He placed himself strategically in the way, shielding her with his body, and finally the hard gaze was turned onto himself. Content to keep it that way, he spoke. 

“Your majesty, we are here helping a friend, and in turn hope to benefit all of Hyrule. I fear I may not explain the details, for they are not ours to give.” 

The king regarded him with a silence so oppressive Sidon found himself opening his mouth to fill it, but there was nothing for it. Even if Rhoam believed Link’s tale, which even Sidon held private uncertainties for, he wouldn’t tell of it without the other’s permission. Dead king or no. 

“Helping Hyrule by breaking its lands with the splinters of the ancient technologies? Technologies that not only failed us, but brought about the calamity?” The king said finally. He pressed his lips together and turned his gaze towards the castle. For a moment, the shell of stoicism cracked, exposing a flash of raw grief. He bowed his head, eyes tight. 

“Always the cursed ancients… Mipha,” he said, “I thought you were the more reasonable of the two. I’d hoped you’d convince her if you were allowed to continue your-” at this he sighed and seemed to come back into himself. 

“I allowed Zelda’s dalliance with sheikah technology only because the champion could not be found, but it turned upon us. What use can come from these infernal towers? What hope is there without the chosen champion? That zora you’ve sent into the shrines, he will soon realize it is useless.”

His gaze unfocused, his body fading into a wisp for a moment before solidifying.

“Even now he struggles.” His lips pursed, brow lowered. “If your great plan involves him, I would inform you that he’s lying collapsed in the snow near the peak of the plateau.”

Mipha’s small gasp was drowned by the Prince’s yelp of “What?!”

Link no longer felt cold. He couldn’t feel anything much. His mind was gray smoke and the winds, spiraling. Memories drifted, dandelion seeds that danced into awareness and out without taking root. 

He’d been warm once. 

Well, many times. 

But this warmth was different. 

It was in his chest and heart, if not his body. He’d been pressed against something hard, but soft. A little clammy, colder than himself. There’d been fingers in his hair. Bigger than his own. The hints of claws against his scalp. A quiet moment. 

Illicite.

Undeserved.

Link shouldn’t think of it. 

Because it shouldn’t have happened. 

But in the silence he could escape, for just a moment. Just a moment longer.

Pause. He told this echo of a memory. 

But it didn’t obey. 

Don’t say it. Don’t say anything. If it’s nameless--

“What-” The question rumbles above him. He feels it against his back. He turns and puts his hand against lips, but they move under his palm.

“-does this mean? Are we-?”

And Link closes his eyes, because it’s over. If it has a name, it is something. But it’s nothing.

It can only be nothing. 

Because he is nothing. 

A mistake. A little burr in the flesh, to be picked out and tossed. 

He gets up, because this nothing is over. 

Link flees--

“Link!” 

He’s not turning back.

“Link!” Why is the voice louder?

“--wrong with him?”

Oh, a lot of things. Everything. 

“--not sure. --healed. --no other woun-”

He is sleepy. So, so sleepy. 

“--move him?”

No, just give him peace to sleep. Just a few minutes more.

Why are they so loud? 

He’s dizzy. Somewhere in the distance he feels himself lifted up. His head lulls until it’s tucked against something. It’s hard, but soft. Maybe a little clammy. Warmer than him. 

But then he is grey smoke and fog again, and nothing really matters. 

When he woke, Link felt like he was boiling alive. His body was sluggish, limbs heavy as if they’d been filled with sand. He struggled against it, panic flaring bright and hot. His eyes snapped open. There was fire to his left, and he squirmed from it with a gasp, blanket tangling his body. 

“You’re awake. Thank Hylia.” Mipha said. She put her hand on his nasal crest in the manner of one checking for a fever. 

“You’ve finally warmed up.” She said, sitting back. The campfire cast shadows under her eyes. She looked tired, but smiled at him. 

Link was too confused to smile back. His body was heavy, resistant to his mind’s pleas to move. It was like sleep paralysis in the waking world, and he fought against it with a furry. 

A small sound, like a mouse being stepped on, escaped him, and Mipha’s eyes sharpened. 

“Link, I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” 

Link dragged in air. 

“Did you hit your head or hurt your neck at all earlier?” Mipha asked.

Link managed to shake his head. He’d just been sleepy. Suddenly so, so--

“Couldn’t stay. Awake.” He grit out.

Mipha nodded. 

“He’s awake? Link!” Suddenly Sidon was there. He was glistening in the light from the fire, still wet from whatever he was doing before. The fat hylian bass in his hands would have solved the mystery if Link had enough awareness to wonder. But all of his energy was focused on fighting to sit up. 

“My dearest friend, we were so worried when we couldn’t wake you! What happened?” And now he was there, so close. The fish abandoned on the ground as he knelt at Link’s side. He was tall and bright and big, and Link couldn’t look so weak in the face of his worry. So he managed to sit up. Tried to shrug, noncommittal. 

Sidon’s face pinched. One hand went out as if to steady him, but hovered an inch away. 

“Hibernation.” Mipha’s voice startled them both. Link had somehow forgotten she was there. The prince and champion turned their heads to look at her. 

“It was not nearly cold enough on that mountain for triggering hibernation.” Sidon said. He sounded confused. 

“I believe whatever type of zora Link happens to be has a lower threshold.” She answered. 

“Stories are passed down the royal family of zora especially affected by ice and fire. From cycles many millennia ago.” Said another voice behind them. 

Link sat up straight. Though the reasons why were lost to time, the voice never failed to send a wave of apprehension straight through him. Like the feeling of expecting a blow. He swallowed hard, and wished he were back asleep. 

Even so, it also sparked free a feeling of pride and determination. With a steel in his spine, Link forced himself to his feet and then knelt before the king.

“You bow like a knight.” King Rhoam said. “Though I remember no such Zora among their number. Rise, and tell me your business in my final resting land… Though there is no rest to be found, as long as my daughter still fights.”

Link stood, ignoring the numbness in his legs. 

But the words wouldn’t come. 

His heart thudded loud in his ears and lodged in his throat, blocking any sound but a squeak. He swallowed, and tried again.

A puff of exhaled air. 

Panic stirred in his guts.

He couldn’t breath--

He felt a large hand against his back, and then another. In his peripheral vision he could see Sidon to his right and Mipha to his left, silent supports. Link’s legs felt less like chuchu jelly. 

Rhoam looked at the three of them for a long moment. 

“At ease, child.” He said. He sounded much more like the ragged old man Link had met on the plateau when waking the first time, for all his regal regalia. “I will have the story in your own time. Perhaps over a meal of those bass laying abandoned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments! They mean a lot to me.

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a lot on how to make my zora link, and in the end I tried to not heavily copy other ideas I've seen (though they're great!). I wanted so bad to make him yellow, but since I was taking other things (electric shield/immunity and the weakness to cold/fire) from the mask I made Link blue with yellow accents. The fish he's inspired by is mainly the blue eyed spotted rainbow fish! (With some flying fish traits not yet seen) I love the blue eyed spotted's bunny-ear looking fins, lol. 
> 
> If you've read, please leave a comment or kudo! I would really appreciate it, even if it's nothing in depth.


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